


Collection of Grethan One-Shots

by jaicubed



Category: Youtubers
Genre: Grethan, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-20
Updated: 2018-09-19
Packaged: 2019-01-20 11:46:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 20
Words: 27,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12432156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaicubed/pseuds/jaicubed
Summary: Each chapter is a different, stand-alone story. Lots of fluff. And foreplay.Some of the chapters have been translated into Russian by crowley_is_my_daddy: https://ficbook.net/readfic/7204693





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I put an underage warning on this because the boys are still under 18, but age is not specified in any of the stories except for one- and they are over 18 in that.

Grayson was wrapped up in their blanket in bed, thinking.

It wasn’t easy, considering that Ethan was singing (badly) at the top of his lungs in the shower fifteen feet away, but he was used to that. If he hadn’t had learned to deal with Ethan’s constant distractions, he never would have been able to do online school at home. And here he was, a high school graduate.

The matter at hand was one he’d been thinking about for weeks. Their eighteenth birthday had been wild, a truly Los Angeles experience despite not being old enough to get in to any clubs or bars. Fortunately, they had older friends, and both of them had gotten thoroughly fucked up at Kian and JC’s- said hosts being more than happy to provide the boys with their first night of drunken debauchery.

One of the games they’d played was basically a very sexual Truth or Dare. Gray- who’d they discovered had a way lower alcohol tolerance than Ethan (twin myth busted!)- was already three sheets to the wind at this point. 

“Okay, Grayson, your Truth,” Kian began, raising an eyebrow. “Tell us two of your kinks.”

Ethan had  _not_  wanted to play this game, especially when Gray was this wasted. A great way to ruin any party was to divulge your secret incestuous relationship with your twin brother to assorted friends and colleagues. He internally willed Grayson- and God, he hoped their telepathy was a real thing- to answer appropriately.

“Hmm,” Grayson said thoughtfully, grinning. “Kinks, huh?” 

Ethan noticed that Gray was studiously avoiding looking at him, and he almost breathed a sigh of relief. That had to be a good sign.

“Please, like you’ve ever done more than squeezed a few boobs over the top of a sweater,” JC scoffed, taking a drink. 

“Yeah, right,” Dom disagreed. “Look at them. They’ve probably fucked half of Los Angeles.”

Grayson did not confirm or refute either of these claims, but took a deep breath and looked at the group dramatically. “Kink #1: biting.”

Well, that was true. Ethan couldn’t count the number of times he’d accidentally drawn blood when Grayson demanded that he bite harder. 

“And kink #2: dirty talk.”

“That’s not a kink,” Andrea said, shaking her her head. “Everyone talks dirty during sex.”

“I mean… _really_  dirty,” Gray clarified. He smirked. 

Wait,  _what_?

This was news to Ethan. And that was unacceptable. He knew  _everything_  about Grayson- kinks and all.

A couple days later when they were packing to go to New Jersey for the holidays, Ethan brought it up. Gray had remembered very little about their birthday, but Ethan had taken delight in telling him all of the stupid things he had said and done. Including his “kinks.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you liked dirty talk?” Ethan asked, throwing a pile of underwear into his suitcase. 

Gray reddened a bit and didn’t answer, focussing way too hard on folding a pair of pants he was going to take. Ethan rolled his eyes.

“Oh, please- you’re fucking your twin brother and you’re embarrassed by  _dirty talk_?” 

“Ethan!” Gray hissed, looking around the room like there were cameras. “Can you just shut the fuck up, for once?”

“Fine. Had no idea that you were such a delicate little flower,” Ethan said, raising an eyebrow. Thankfully, he dropped the subject.

Now they were back in LA, and Ethan had started bugging him about it again. Gray rolled over so he wasn’t getting the full blast of Ethan’s horrible shower concert and tried to tune him out.

It’s not that Grayson didn’t want to tell Ethan about it. He did, of course. But it was just too embarrassing.

He didn’t really like dirty talk as much as he liked…name-calling. But not like “suck my cock, you dirty slut” or “just like that, bitch.” The names he liked were more…gentle. …feminine.

It had all started a few months ago. Grayson had been at the apartment, sick as a dog, and Ethan was out in the world, trying to  _not_  get as sick as a dog. He hadn’t even slept in the bed with Grayson for the past three days.

“Bring me soup,” Gray whined into his cell. The bed was littered with tissues and the nightstand had every type of cough syrup and nose spray on it, along with bottles upon bottles of water and Gatorade. Ethan had gone a bit overboard at CVS.

“Okay,” Ethan agreed. The upside of being sick was that Ethan was extra nice to him. “What kind?”

“Any kind, as long as it’s hot. Oh, and nothing spicy.”

“Wonton? Mr. G.’s?” Mr. G.’s was their favorite Chinese place. Grayson’s stomach grumbled. That was a good sign.

“Yes, please,” Grayson sighed. He sneezed and almost dropped the phone out of his hand.

“Alright, I’ll pick it up before I come home. See you soon,” Ethan said sympathetically. Gray knew it made Ethan feel terrible when he was sick.

“Say babygirl,” Grayson demanded, and Ethan laughed. Ever since they’d filmed that video, every once in awhile they’d whip out the babygirl when they were on the phone.

“See you soon,  _babygirl_ ,” Ethan repeated, making his voice deep and smoky. 

Ethan hung up, which was a good thing, because Gray was frozen in place.

Did he just get turned on by his twin brother calling him- a very masculine, manly guy he might add-  _baby girl_?

He tried to shake it off, but there was no denying it. The sound of Ethan saying it in that voice was burned into his brain. 

He thought it might have just been him being delusional because of the cough syrup, so when Gray was feeling better, he called Ethan when he was at the warehouse and Ethan was out getting supplies for their next video.

“Okay, I’ll be there in fifteen,” Ethan said once Gray had reminded him of their list.

“Say babygirl,” Gray ordered, and he held his breath. It had just been a fluke. It had to have been.

“I’ll be there in fifteen, babygirl,” Ethan said again. He didn’t say it in that super deep voice, but it was  _still_  hot. 

Fuck.

It didn’t make any sense. He was very happy being an almost six-foot, jacked, penis-having  _boy_. Why would baby girl get his rocks off?

He didn’t know, and he never found out. He did find out, however, that it wasn’t just baby girl that did it for him. 

The times when Gray didn’t ask Ethan to say baby girl at the end of a conversation, Ethan would tack on his own endearments to his goodbyes. “Princess” became the second most commonly used, although “sugar” and even “mami” were made a decent number of appearances.

It wasn’t always a sexual thing, but it was more often than not, and Gray imagined Ethan calling him those names in bed. It wasn’t a secret that Grayson was more submissive in that context, but he didn’t think that wanting to be called a pretty, beautiful flower princess in bed was going to go over well with Ethan.

Grayson was so deep in his musings that he didn’t hear Ethan come out of the bathroom, and all of a sudden he had a handsy, shower-warm body pressed against him.

“Wake up!” Ethan whipped the blanket off of Grayson’s body and started peppering kisses down his neck and on his shoulder. “Rise and shine, princess!”

Gray didn’t know if it was because his naked body had been exposed to the AC or because of Ethan had said, but he shivered slightly. 

Ethan didn’t seem to notice. He slapped Grayson’s ass and hopped off the bed, and Grayson watched with badly-concealed interest as Ethan took his time getting dressed. In fact, Ethan had only managed to get his briefs on before Grayson beckoned him over.

“Yes?” Ethan asked, accepting Gray’s hand and pushing him onto his back. “How may I help you?”

Ethan was resting on his elbows, looking down smugly at him. 

“We need to talk,” Grayson said, and it came out of his mouth before he’d even really thought about it.

“You’re not breaking up with me, are you?” Ethan asked, making his lip quiver. Grayson rolled his eyes and Ethan laughed. He started kissing Grayson’s jaw, then his throat, and Gray almost forgot the matter at hand.

“Ethan! I’m serious,” Gray whined, pushing on his brother’s chest.

“Okay, okay,” Ethan said, and he sat back on his heels. He gestured for Gray to start.

“Umm…” Grayson hadn’t planned on doing this right now, and he was nervous. 

Ethan raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms. Grayson knew that he would stay there until he spit it out.

“You know…you know how I said I liked…dirty talk?” Grayson licked his lips. He knew Ethan wouldn’t judge him, but he’d probably get roasted for days. He didn’t want this to become more of a joke.

“Yeah? And?”

“Well…I guess it’s not really…I mean, I like dirty talk, but that’s not really what I…it’s more of, like…”

“Oh my God, Gray, just fucking say it,” Ethan groaned. He squeezed Grayson’s calf lightly. “You can tell me anything.”

“Okay.” Grayson took a deep breath and looked Ethan straight in the eye. “I…I like it when…I like it when you call me…”

“Big poppa?” Ethan suggested innocently.

Grayson shot him a glare and tried again. This was it. “I like it when you call me…babygirl.”

Ethan didn’t run away, or gasp, or look even remotely shocked or surprised. He looked like he was waiting for Grayson to continue. 

When Grayson didn’t, Ethan shook his head. “That’s it?”

“Well…yeah.” 

Ethan leaned forward and pressed a kiss onto Grayson’s lips. “Gray…I knew that.”

Grayson’s eyes widened. “You did?”

Ethan hovered over Gray on his elbows. “Duh. After the first couple of times you asked me to say it on the phone, I sort of got that it was a thing for you.”

“And…and you don’t think it’s weird?”

“Gray, think about everything we do. No…it’s not weird,” Ethan answered, the side of his mouth quirking up. Grayson pulled him back down for a kiss, and they stayed wrapped in each other for awhile, their kisses becoming increasingly deeper and more urgent, until Gray was desperate for more contact.

Ethan started attacking his neck, and Grayson couldn’t keep quiet. That was his weakness.

“The noises you make are so pretty, babygirl,” Ethan whispered hotly into his ear, and Grayson’s eyes nearly rolled into the back of his head. 

He should have known better than to hide anything from Ethan. One- the kid almost always knew, anyway. And two? He’d do anything to make Grayson happy.

It was sort of their thing.


	2. Chapter 2

“Ethan, I swear to God, if you don’t tell me where we are right the fuck now-”

“Chill, princess. I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you…” Ethan could definitely see Grayson’s eyebrow raise through the blindfold, and he winced. “…on Valentine’s Day.”

“Yeah, right,” Grayson said under his breath, but he let Ethan continue to guide him by the hand toward their destination.

Grayson had been blindfolded for the last two hours in the car, and it felt good to walk, even though he was nervous as hell. He had no idea where Ethan had taken him, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to find out.

Ethan stumbled and nearly pulled Grayson down to the ground. 

“You’re supposed to be the guide, Ethan! I can’t fucking see anything, remember?” Grayson huffed.

“It’s dark, okay? Sorry. We’re almost there.”

Ethan was also nervous. He’d been planning this for weeks, and if it sucked…well, it would be pretty embarrassing. For everyone.

Jack had helped him set up, although he didn’t know all of the details, of course. But it was pretty easy to use filming as an excuse for just about anything- even this “date.” It’s not like they hadn’t gone on a Valentine’s date on camera before. Jack didn’t need to know the “date” was actually a  _date_ , and that if Ethan didn’t get laid that night after all this effort, he was going to be  _pissed_.

They crested the hill and Ethan grinned. It was perfect.

It was the famous overlook where they ate fro yo together, except seriously more pimped out.

The ocean was still a vast expanse beneath them, waves lapping against the shore, the moon shining bright on the surf. There was nothing really special about the overlook except the view- just a grassy spot at the top of a hill. But Ethan had changed all of that.

A large blanket was spread out on the grass, and a picnic basket filled with fro yo and actual chocolate-covered strawberries- not dog food covered strawberries- was in the middle. The best part had taken the longest, and was the result of a very awkward trip to Michael’s.

Scattered everywhere around the blanket, all over the grassy space, were LED candles in lanterns of various sizes, shapes, and designs. Everything looked surreal, ethereal. It looked fucking  _awesome_.

“Are we at the beach?” Grayson guessed as a sea breeze blew through his hair. 

Ethan led him to the edge of the blanket. “No. Take off your blindfold.”

Ethan held his breath as Gray pulled off the headband and could see for the first time in hours.

Grayson didn’t speak for several moments. He took everything in, his head slowly turning from one side of the overlook to the other.

“Do you like it?” Ethan asked, and he grimaced as his voice almost cracked with nerves.

“Yes,” Grayson answered honestly. He squeezed Ethan’s hand. “But I feel like a fucking girl for liking it.”

Ethan laughed, relieved. “You get a free girl pass on Valentine’s Day.”

They sat on the blanket and Ethan pulled the fro yo out of the basket. He had made Jack drop it off not too long ago, but it had already melted a little bit. Grayson didn’t seem to mind.

They sat in companionable silence, listening to the ocean, the distant sound of cars on the highway. The night was clear, and it was perfect.

“You’re so proud of yourself, aren’t you?” Grayson asked. He’d finished his fro yo and was on his back on the blanket, looking up at the sky.

“Maybe a little,” Ethan answered with a grin. He rolled onto his side so he was facing Gray and wiped a bit of chocolate off the corner of his mouth. “But there’s more.”

“This is where you bring out the snakes and scorpions, right?”

“Not quite.” Ethan dug in the basket and pulled out a strawberry. Grayson looked at it and narrowed his eyes.

“If that’s dog food, I’m going to murder you.”

“I promise it’s not,” Ethan reassured him, and he rolled his eyes when Grayson leaned up to sniff it.

Grayson took a tentative bite. Ethan had spent a fuck ton of money on these strawberries, so if Grayson didn’t like them he was going to riot.

“Mmm,” Grayson sighed. He licked his lips. “That’s good.”

Ethan ate the rest of the strawberry. “Good. They were really expensive.”

“Such a romantic.”

Ethan rolled onto his back and they fell into another long, comfortable silence, until Gray turned over and threw an arm over Ethan’s chest and tucked his head into the crook of his neck.

“You know, I’m really bummed there aren’t any rose petals anywhere,” Grayson said in mock disappointment, and Ethan chuckled. He ran a hand through Gray’s hair.

“If you want roses, I’ll get them tomorrow.”

“Does my free girl pass last that long?” Gray asked, smiling against Ethan’s neck.

“I think I can get you an extension.”

**

Ethan’s eyes blinked open hours later. It was still dark, and many of the candles had died (stupid cheap pieces of crap) leaving only a few weakly glimmering around them.

How the hell had they fallen asleep? This night had been planned for maximum romance, and maximum amounts of car sex. And now Grayson was snoring in his ear.

He sighed. Well, so much for that.

He slid out from Gray’s grasp and collected as many lanterns as he could, taking a couple of trips back and forth to the car until the only thing left was one lantern so he could see where the fuck he was going, the blanket, the basket, and Gray.

He briefly considered carrying Grayson back to the car so as not to wake him, but he was not confident in his ability to go downhill with 175 pounds of muscle in his arms. 

“Gray,” he whispered, shaking his hip lightly. When that didn’t work, he shook more forcefully. “Gray, wake up.”

Grayson whined, obviously comfortable. Sleeping outside wasn’t  _horrible_ , but Ethan didn’t want to chance any tourists coming upon two cuddling brothers in the morning.

“I know. But you can sleep in the car.” Ethan shook him again and he rolled onto his back and reluctantly opened his eyes.

He stretched before sitting up and rubbing his eyes. “I can’t believe we fell asleep.” Gray looked at Ethan and gave him an amused, sleepy smile. “You didn’t even put the moves on me.”

“Don’t remind me,” Ethan groaned.

Gray dug in the basket for a strawberry. Ethan watched, transfixed, as his lips wrapped around it, sucking for a brief second before biting down.

Grayson was finishing his third strawberry before he finally called Ethan out. “Are you getting turned on watching me eat fruit?”

Ethan shrugged. “I have a kink?”

Gray chuckled and wiped his mouth. “Well, I feel a lot more awake now.” He looked at his watch. “And we still have a few more hours of darkness.”

He crawled to Ethan’s spot at the edge of the blanket until his face was inches away from Ethan’s ear. “Do you want another chance to put the moves on me?”

Ethan turned his head and pressed his lips against Gray’s. He wrapped his fingers around the back of Gray’s neck and pulled him closer, deepening the kiss with more tongue, and more teeth, until Grayson was fisting his t-shirt and panting against his mouth.

“This was really romantic and nice and everything,” Grayson whispered hotly. “But I’m ready for car sex now.”

Ethan’s eyes widened, and Grayson smirked. “I can read you like a book, baby.”

Soon they were scrambling down the hill with the blanket flying behind them, laughing like idiots. Like stupid idiots in love on Valentine’s Day.


	3. Chapter 3

“Why can’t  _I_ be the badass motorcycler? You always get to be the cool characters.”

“Jesus, Gray, stop whining like a little bitch. I’m always the cool characters because I’m cooler.  _Obviously_.” Ethan gestured towards the door. “Now let’s go film.”

Grayson knew that, in theory, this bit was supposed to make their fans’ collective panties drop. Ethan looked like a true James Dean-esque bad boy with his slicked back hair, Ray-Bans, and worn leather jacket. He had the swagger and smirk down pat. Even without an actual motorcycle, he still managed to achieve an impressive level of sexiness.

Grayson, however, only found him extremely annoying, and he filmed Ethan’s ridiculously macho performance with a healthy amount of eye-rolling. They spent at least fifteen minutes filming Ethan walking around like a douche bag in his heavy boots, posing and generally making an ass out of himself. Then he sped around around on his stupid little bike, and while that part wasn’t exactly supposed to be sexy, Ethan thought he had made it so.

“And  _that’s_  how you do it,” Ethan said, hopping off the mini-bike. He winked at Grayson in such a smarmy way that Gray wanted to slap the shit out of him. Ethan cupped his cheek in his hand and brushed his thumb over his lip. “But don’t worry baby, you can ride in my bitch seat anytime.”

Grayson smacked his hand away and Ethan laughed heartily. Gray watched him strut back inside the house with narrowed eyes.

The thing was, Ethan had been convinced- probably since conception- that he was cooler than Grayson, and probably nothing Grayson could ever do in his entire life would change his mind. 

And it had gotten worse since they’d started fucking. Now Ethan thought he was some sort of sex god on top of everything else, and frankly, it had just gotten insufferable. If Gray didn’t knock him down a few notches- and soon- Ethan’s ego would get so big he’d float off forever into fuckboy purgatory.

The seed for the plan was planted a few days later. He’d left Ethan in the warehouse to edit and jerk off over himself in his stupid Ray-Bans, and escaped to a part of the city he hadn’t visited before. It was one of those neighborhoods with a tattoo shop on every corner and gangs of pierced, smoking teenagers loitering on the sidewalk. It wasn’t exactly Grayson’s scene, but he wasn’t opposed to it. On the contrary, he was kind of digging it.

He walked past a storefront and did a double-take. On a headless- but obviously male- mannequin was a pair of black leather boots. They were shined to perfection, but had no zippers, buckles, or any sort of metal to give any visual interest except a small clasp at the top, on the sides. What had caught Grayson’s eye was that they went all the way to mid-thigh- higher than he’d ever seen a pair of men’s boots go in his life.

Before he knew it he was in the shop, and a woman with purple hair and very large gauges in her ears- “Aurora”- had disappeared into the back to find his size in the boots.

While he was unarguably the more fashionable of the two of them, this was outside of his comfort zone. Aurora helped him slide into them when she came back, and he stood in front of the mirror, totally amazed. There was no high heel, but he felt taller, for some reason. His legs looked amazing. His  _ass_  looked amazing.

“I was skeptical when you came in, but they look fucking dope on you,” Aurora said, nodding her head. “But not with those jeans.”

Gray shook his head. “No.” He hadn’t really thought that until she’d said it, but he knew for sure she was right. 

She started to speak, but then stopped. She looked at him in the mirror thoughtfully. Her own boots were studded from toe to knee and about six inches high, and he stared at them until she cleared her throat.

“Look, you seem like one of those J Crew, all-American types, and that’s fine. But if you really want to pull off those boots, you’ll need a whole outfit. One that doesn’t consist of a v-neck and a sweatshirt.”

He was 100% committed to the boots- he’d known that as soon as he had slid his foot in. He was a bit wary, though, of anything else- the clothes on the racks around him were pretty…edgy.

“Don’t be scared, college boy. They’re just clothes.” She winked and pushed him towards a dressing room. “Just leave it to me.”

****

When Gray had seen himself in the outfit, Aurora smirking behind him, he knew that knocking Ethan down a few inches involved him wearing it.

Ethan’s biggest weakness was his love for Grayson- and more recently, his  _lust_ for Grayson. No matter how cool Ethan thought he was, it still only took Grayson throwing one smoldering glance over his shoulder for Ethan to be panting like a dog. Gray didn’t use his powers that often, but when Ethan got like this, he had no choice.

The hardest part was finding an excuse to wear the outfit and work his magic. It was so outside his usual wardrobe that it was almost laughable- although the clothes themselves weren’t. He couldn’t just throw it on one day and waltz into the living room.

Fortunately, opportunity struck- literally. They were walking down Hollywood Boulevard when someone smashed a flyer into Grayson’s stomach and breezed past into the crowd.

“What the fuck was that?” Ethan turned behind him and gave a dirty look to humanity in general. “I don’t know why we still come to this fuckin’ place.”

Grayson looked at the flyer.  **PUNK NITE AT THE VIPER ROOM! 18+. BANDS TIL 3AM.**

Gray didn’t recognize any of the bands listed or the screaming guys in the photo below them, but that wasn’t the point. He had his excuse.

“We should go to this,” Grayson suggested casually. Ethan took the flyer from him and snorted.

“We don’t listen to this shit.”

“Well, we don’t  _now_. Maybe we should expand our horizons. Do something more interesting with our Saturday night than Netflix and chill.” Grayson attempted an air of disinterest, hoping that Ethan wouldn’t call his bluff. 

“You weren’t complaining about Netflix and chill last Saturday,” Ethan said, crossing his arms. “In fact, I distinctly recall the words ‘oh God,’ ‘yes,’ and ‘more,’ being repeated frequently and loudly.”

“Well, Ethan, sex is like pizza- even when it’s bad, it’s good. And in any case, we can always do that after we check this out.” Grayson took the flyer and folded it before putting it in his back pocket and strolling down the street ahead of Ethan.

“Wait! What did you say about sex and pizza?” Ethan called, chasing behind him. Grayson grinned. In. the. bag.

****

It was 11pm on Saturday and Gray was standing in front of his mirror. He looked just as good as he did in the store, but now it was show time and he was nervous.

He had fought with Ethan for an hour over  _his_  outfit, before they finally reached a compromise. Black pants, black shirt. Boots. No Vans.

“It’s not like it even matters. You’re gonna want to leave after five minutes anyway,” Ethan huffed, running a hand through his hair. 

Honestly, Gray hoped they wouldn’t even make it out of the apartment complex, but he kept that to himself and only glared.

Ethan had gone off to the convenience store down the street and was going to call them an Uber. Gray was supposed to meet him outside, and he was wavering when his phone buzzed in the pocket of his jacket. 

COME ON. UBER WILL BE HERE IN FIVE.

Grayson fixed his hair one more time and took one final look. The boots were still incredible, and paired with one of his favorite leather jackets, a blank tank Aurora had chosen, and a new plaid shirt wrapped around his waist that Aurora had insisted on, he looked alternative, but not like he was trying too hard. He’d avoided Aurora’s hair and make up suggestions, at least.

He looked good. Damn good.

But the biggest risk was the skirt.

It was not unheard of for punk guys to wear skirts, but it wasn’t common, and they weren’t usually  _this_  short.

“This is a joke, right?” Gray had asked Aurora incredulously. She was holding up a black leather skirt that looked like it would barely fit  _her_ , and she was about a third of his size. 

“Trust me. Try it on. And yes, it is a men’s item. So don’t bitch about it.”

Well, he guessed he didn’t have to come out if he looked like a total moron. And she hadn’t led him astray so far. He reluctantly stepped into it and pulled it over the boots, buttoning it at the waist.

Oh.

“What were you saying about a joke?” Aurora had asked innocently.

Ethan was going to  _die_.

It didn’t look ridiculous at all. It was definitely made for a man’s body- there was no curve to it. And it clung to his thighs and ass in a strangely masculine way- like he was a gladiator or something. The expanse of skin showing between the top of the boots and the bottom of the skirt was a bit too large for his comfort, but he could take a risk. He had a score to settle, after all.

Aurora had bagged up his purchases and handed it over the counter with a smile- a naughty one. “He’ll love it. Thank me later.”

Grayson’s eyes had widened comically, but she only winked again and disappeared into the back of the store.

He took a deep breath and turned off the lights, locking the apartment door behind him.

He didn’t pass many people on his way out of the complex to the sidewalk in front, but the people he did pass barely glanced at him. He guessed they were used to weird kids walking around in God knows what.

Ethan was engrossed in his phone by their usual Uber pick up spot, and Gray stopped five feet behind him before calling his name.

“E.”

Ethan pivoted towards him without looking up from his phone. “Hey, if we get bored at this thing we can head over to West Hollywood for…”

Ethan’s words died on his lips when he finally tore his eyes away from his phone and looked at Grayson.

The poor kid was such a visual person that his synapses were probably shorting out. He stared at the boots and slowly worked his way up, lingering on the bare skin beneath the skirt, before sliding up Grayson’s torso and making eye contact.

He was  _shook_.

Grayson could tell that the shock- and any lingering old-fashioned views about men in skirts- had totally ceded control to his caveman brain. 

Now, to seal the deal. Gray fixed Ethan with that look- the kill shot. 

He glanced down at the ground briefly, and then looked up at Ethan through his lashes. It was Grayson’s patented mixture of submission and desire, conveyed through the heavy-lidded expression known as “bedroom eyes.”

“We can head to West Hollywood for what?” Grayson asked softly.

Before Ethan could remember how to speak, the Uber pulled up to the curb and honked the horn. Ethan was momentarily startled out of his daze, and he looked from Grayson to the car, and then back to Grayson.

“You Ethan Dolan?” a gruff voice called from the window.

Ethan finally tore his eyes away from Grayson and strode to the car with purpose. He pulled out his wallet and took a $50 from the pocket. “Hey, it turns out we aren’t going to need you after all. Here’s something for the inconvenience. Sorry, have a good night!”

Ethan tossed the bill through the window and walked back to Grayson, grabbing his hand before breaking into a run.

When the apartment door was locked behind them, Ethan pushed Grayson against it, crowding into his space.

“Bedroom, now,” he ordered in a growl. “Everything off except the skirt and the boots. You understand?”

Grayson nodded, and Ethan kissed him hard before pushing him towards the bedroom.

Grayson made his way down the hallway, internally pumping his fist. Ethan may be cooler, but  _he_  had the power. All of it.


	4. Chapter 4

“Ethan, I want to show you something, but you can’t get mad,” Grayson began, biting his lip.

They were on the couch in the living room watching re-runs of Family Guy, and Ethan had been totally content. Gray was snuggled up against him in between his legs, his back pressed against Ethan’s chest. He was warm and he smelled good and Ethan had become increasingly more interested in wrapping his arms around Gray’s belly and pressing kisses on his neck than in watching the show.

But then- of course- Grayson had to ruin it.

Ethan stiffened. “Okay,” he said carefully. “Is it bad?”

Grayson turned in his arms and looked at him earnestly. “No, it’s not bad, don’t worry. It’s just…I know that we had agreed we weren’t going to get each other birthday presents this year, but-”

“Grayson,” Ethan groaned. “You promised you wouldn’t do this.”

“I know. Just…don’t think of this as a birthday present. Think of it as a really early Christmas present,” Grayson tried. He smiled brightly, but Ethan remained stone-faced.

Grayson sighed. “Look, please just let me give this to you. You don’t have to go out and get me anything- in fact, if you do I’ll be even more mad than you are right now.”

Ethan looked up at the ceiling. Of course he was going to get Grayson something now- he wasn’t a terrible person. But unfortunately, he only had two days to do it, while Grayson had the luxury of weeks. The bastard.

Gray slid off the couch and disappeared for a few moments before returning with a gift bag. It wasn’t too big, so Ethan hoped it was all just a joke, and inside would be a couple packs of gum or something.

He accepted the bag from Gray and glared at him, but picked through the tissue paper until he found a long, thin box. He pulled it out, and as soon as he saw the lettering on the box he threw the bag off to the side.

“Goddammit, Gray, you fucking didn’t!”

“It’s not a big deal,” Grayson said placatingly. He gave Ethan his best puppy dog eyes, but Ethan was too mad to fall for them this time. Which was highly unusual.

Ethan took the lid off the box slowly, hoping again that it was a joke, and inside was a #2 pencil or something.  _Please let it be a pencil._

It wasn’t a pencil.

It was, as Ethan had feared, the $900 Gucci watch that he had been coveting for the past two months. It was a sleek black, Swiss-made, with only the word “REAL” in dripping yellow ink on the face. It was a collaboration between Gucci and one of his favorite artists, and he had been dying for it, but couldn’t justify the $900 expense on an item that he didn’t really wear that often- especially when there was more stuff they wanted to do to the warehouse.

“Do you like it?” Grayson asked, with the damn puppy eyes again. Like he didn’t already know.

“Of course I fucking like it. But Gray, I told you…you  _promised_ …this is too mu-”

Grayson leaned forward and kissed him, cutting off his protest. This was playing real dirty- Grayson knew Ethan was almost powerless against him when he was pressed up against Ethan’s chest, blessing him with those pretty lips. Ethan wanted to stay mad, but it was impossible. He felt his blood pressure drop, and when Gray pulled away, he had resigned himself to his fate.

“Try it on,” Grayson urged. Ethan was too whipped to disobey a direct order, so he slid it out of the box and put it on his left wrist. It was ticking already, and it looked fucking dope. It was perfect. Exactly his style.

“Gray…” Ethan sighed, shaking his head. 

Gray wrapped his arms around Ethan’s neck. “You get me stuff all the time- my  _dream car_ , for example- and you never get anything for yourself.”

Ethan couldn’t help but pull Grayson closer, and Gray nuzzled into his neck. “You deserve it, E.”

Ethan begged to differ, but he knew it was useless to argue. He let Gray maneuver them back into their previous snuggling position and Gray turned the TV back up.

“Thanks, baby,” Ethan said finally, pressing a kiss onto Grayson’s temple. 

Grayson hummed in acknowledgement, and Ethan fell asleep not long after, wracking his brain for the perfect gift.

*****

When Ethan woke up the next morning, his back was killing him, and Grayson had somehow flipped over in the night and was drooling into his t-shirt.

He looked at his watch- his amazing, beautiful, stunning watch that he didn’t deserve- and saw that it was still pretty early. He hardly ever woke up before Gray, and although he was dying to go back to sleep, he couldn’t waste this opportunity.

He sat up and wrapped one arm around Grayson’s back and got his other under Grayson’s legs. He managed to carry Grayson to the bedroom without dropping him or waking him up, and after a quick shower Ethan was running out to the car, and Grayson in bed snoring.

He waited in line at the Starbucks near their building and planned his next move. He really only had one day to find Grayson a gift, since even though tomorrow was only the day before their birthday, they’d be traveling for the bulk of it to back to New Jersey in time.

Usually, picking out gifts for Grayson was easy. They were twins after all, so he knew his likes and dislikes inside and out. But  _this_  gift required a certain amount of finesse. 

Grayson had asked him not to get him a gift in return, since Ethan got him stuff all the time. This was true- Ethan was pretty generous with presents, especially since they had started their…thing. But Grayson was amazing and wonderful and farted rainbows and pixie dust and he was just a turtle man, and it was just how he showed his love, alright?

He knew if he went out and got Grayson a comparable gift, he would be pissed for weeks. So Ethan had to come up with the perfect inexpensive, meaningful gift that would fulfill his obsessive need to spoil Grayson but also not make Grayson hate him. They were going to be on a plane for a long time in a few days, after all, and that would be very unpleasant.

“Sir?” The barista looked at him impatiently, and he realized he was holding up an entire line of people with his intense brainstorming.

When he had his coffee he walked in the opposite direction away from the apartment. There was a little shopping district close by, and even if most of the stores weren’t open yet, maybe he could get some ideas.

Of course, he had barely made it to the beginning of the row of shops when Grayson texted him.

**where r u?**

And then two seconds later-

**U BETTER NOT BE GETTING ME A PRESENT**

Grayson wasn’t stupid, that was for sure.

 **Mind ur own business and go back to sleep** , Ethan texted back.  **I’ll be home soon**.

Surprisingly, Grayson seemed to follow the instructions, because he didn’t hear from him again. Good.

Ethan quickly discovered that the stores he’d walked to were definitely not what he was looking for. Unless Grayson had suddenly developed an affinity for women’s clothing in the last 24 hours.

He picked up some breakfast for Grayson- one of these fancy juices he’d started to obsess over and a bagel with cream cheese- and headed back to the apartment. He’d escape again later in the day when Grayson was busy doing something other than bugging him.

Grayson was sitting up in bed when he got back, looking at his phone. 

“Here,” Ethan said, offering the food items. Grayson took them gratefully.

“Now this is a good present,” Grayson decided, his mouth full of bagel. He took a sip of juice and grinned. “Breakfast in bed is so underrated.”

“Well, you can have lunch and dinner in here too. Go crazy,” Ethan joked, but Grayson just looked at him thoughtfully.

“That actually sounds kind of nice…an entire day in bed. Nothing to film, no meetings to go to. No family members to entertain. Just you, me, and this very expensive mattress.” 

“Wow, I’m invited, too?” Ethan asked, putting a hand over his heart dramatically. “I’m honored.”

“You should be, bitch.”

****

Six hours and three orgasms later, Grayson was passed out on Ethan’s chest with drool running out of the corner of his mouth.

Ethan considered following through with his plan and escaping out to get Grayson a gift. He ultimately decided against it. Grayson wanted to spend all day in bed with him, and damn it, he was going to stay in bed all day.

He looked at his phone and noticed that Grayson had responded to a tweet he’d made about Grayson- the bastard- buying him a gift like a sneaky fucking sneak, and that he only had one day to return the favor.

**It’s FINE. I told you ALL I WANT is YOUR LOVE.**

Ethan grinned. Grayson already had that in spades, but if he needed more, Ethan was damn sure going to give it to him.


	5. Chapter 5

“Gray, you gotta be quiet,” Ethan hissed. His eyes flicked to the door. He had checked that he’d locked it about a dozen times, but if something sounded amiss he knew their family wouldn’t hesitate to knock the door down right to the floor.

It was risky- fucking right in their childhood bedroom when all of their blood relatives were in the house- but Ethan Dolan was the epitome of a risk-taker. Also, he was seventeen and wanted sex pretty much constantly.

Because of the influx of guests to the house for the holidays, they’d had to share a bed. They did this every night in LA anyway, but they’d had to force out a couple of put-upon groans for the sake of propriety. But honestly, it couldn’t have worked out better for them.

Grayson had resisted Ethan’s advances for about five minutes- dude, it’s weird- before he had caved. He was also seventeen, after all.

Now they were both on their sides facing the door, Ethan pressed tight against Grayson’s back. He had an arm under Grayson’s thigh, lifting it so he could slide inside Grayson’s slick warmth again and again.

He’d chosen this position for a minimum amount of bed-shaking and headboard-banging, but Grayson was making up for the lack of environmental noise with his steady stream of moans and whines.

After Ethan’s warning Gray quieted down, but as they neared the inevitable climax, he started up again. It didn’t help that Ethan was pounding his sweet spot with every thrust and biting his neck hard, just he like he loved.

“Gray, babe, quiet,” Ethan panted. He realized quickly that his warnings were useless. He pressed his palm hard over Grayson’s mouth, and he could feel Grayson hot against his skin, could feel how close he was by how fast his breath was coming in pants and gasps.

Ethan felt the moment that Grayson fell apart, shuddering in his arms, crying out against his palm. Ethan fucked him through it slowly until he couldn’t take it anymore, and after a few deep thrusts he followed Grayson into orgasmic bliss.

Grayson was asleep almost instantly, Ethan’s gentle kisses on his neck and shoulder pushing him over the edge into dreamland. 

It took Ethan longer. With nowhere to be the next day, and nothing to think about except the body pressed against him, his mind wandered. How long could they do this? How long until they slipped and someone caught on?

He couldn’t live without it now. There was no way he could go back to how they were before. Nervous dread twisted his gut as he imagined it all being torn away.

Grayson sighed in his sleep and snuggled closer into Ethan’s warmth, and Ethan wrapped an arm around his waist. He let the rhythm of Grayson’s breathing calm him, and soon, he felt his eyes start to droop.

He could worry later. Things were okay, for now.

Better than okay.


	6. Chapter 6

“I think I’m going to sell the Scrambler.”

Grayson choked on a piece of bacon, hacking so loudly he attracted the attention of the other IHOP patrons sitting around them. When he could breathe and his eyes had stopped watering, he stared open-mouthed at Ethan, who was sitting across from him casually chewing on a piece of pancake. 

“Why?” Grayson finally asked. He was in shock. Ethan might as well have said,  _Hey, for next week’s video I think you should just blow me for eight minutes_.

The Scrambler was Ethan’s  _baby_. He took care of it better than any car he’d ever had. He could spend hours a day zipping around Los Angeles with no destination. He’d come home with helmet head and smelling like leather and exhaust, but he’d be fucking exhilarated, almost aroused by how much he loved riding that stupid motorcycle.

“I think I want to try out a different bike, you know? Something…bigger.” Ethan took a breath like he was about to say something more, but he didn’t. He took a deliberate sip of his coffee and avoided Grayson’s gaze.

“…why?” Grayson asked again. This was blowing his mind. The Ducati Scrambler was the bike that Ethan had wanted since he was seven years old and could barely ride an actual bicycle without falling over on his ass. It was sexy, and it was fast, and it rode nice and smooth. 

Grayson wasn’t a big motorcycle guy but he understood the appeal. He even liked driving the Scrambler from time to time. What had made Ethan have a change of heart all of a sudden?

“I’ve been looking at a BMW,” Ethan said, ignoring Grayson’s question. “I can trade in the Scrambler for a pretty decent model at that place in Calabasas. I’m going to look at it this afternoon.”

Grayson’s head was spinning. All he could do was nod. “Okay, E. If that’s what you want.”

Ethan perked up. “Will you come with me?”

“Sure, but I won’t be much help…I don’t really know a lot about motorcy-”

“It doesn’t matter,” Ethan interrupted. “You should come. I was thinking around 1. Okay?”

“Okay.” Grayson watched Ethan grin and dig into his pancakes with more vigor. He really didn’t understand his brother sometimes. But he guessed after three years, even the passion between a man and motorcycle could fizzle. The day that Ethan said he was going to change from pancakes to…he didn’t fucking know, French toast or something, then he would  _really_  be worried.

*****

It was blazing hot, and Grayson was miserable.

He had walked the expanse of this parking lot, filled with motorcycles and cars and every other imaginable sort of vehicle, about twenty times. The sun was beating down on his neck and shoulders, and all he wanted was a cold drink and a swim. 

The guy from the dealership that Ethan had talked to on the phone was at lunch when they showed up, and no one else knew anything about the BMW Ethan wanted to look at. So Ethan marched out to the lot, determined to find it himself. 

He wasn’t having much luck.

Grayson groaned and looked at his watch. “The guy is probably back from lunch by now. We’ve been out here for half an hour. I don’t think we’re going to find it, so we should go back and ask for hel-”

“There it is!” Ethan exclaimed. He jogged ten feet down the line of bikes and pointed. “Right here.”

Grayson trudged over to the bike in question. 

It was definitely…bigger.

“This is it?” Grayson asked. “Are…are you sure?”

“Positive. Don’t you love it?” Ethan walked around it a couple of times, nodding his head excitedly. “This is one of the safest bikes out there. And look at all the storage in the back!”

“What are you, a soccer mom? You sound like you’re talking about a minivan. I thought you wanted something sexy.” Grayson scratched his head, trying to think of a way to say what he wanted diplomatically. “This…this sort of looks like an old person motorcycle.”

Ethan scoffed. “No way. I know it isn’t as sleek as the Scrambler, but it’s still sexy. And it’s big! Plenty of room for both of us to-”

Ethan cut himself off, and Grayson could tell that the red on his cheeks was definitely embarrassment, not sunburn. 

“Plenty of room for us to what?” Grayson asked. Ethan was turning redder by the second, and he was intrigued.

“For us to…you know…ride together…” Ethan mumbled.

“ _That’s_  why you want a bigger bike? So we can ride it together?” Grayson rolled his eyes. “Jesus, E. We don’t have to do everything together. It’s good for us to have separate hobbies. Besides, can’t two people ride on the Scrambler, anyway?”

“Not us. You’re too big to fit on the back,” Ethan said, and he blushed again. “And…and I want you…in the back…”

It all clicked for Grayson then. Why Ethan had been all cagey about it. He had a  _thing_. In that little squirrel brain of his, he’d conjured up some fantasy of Grayson being his biker bitch, riding behind him and holding onto his waist for dear life like a  _girl_.

At least he had the decency to be embarrassed about it.

"You need a girlfriend,” Grayson said pointedly, and Ethan’s face dropped. 

Ethan had a bad habit of treating Grayson like a girlfriend. Sure, they were fucking, and  _in love_ , or whatever, but Grayson wasn’t a girl. And when he felt like Ethan was going too far, Grayson reminded him that there were plenty of women out there who’d love to be Ethan’s bitch.

Like Ethan would ever leave him.

“Just try it,” Ethan pleaded. He threw a leg over the bike and straddled the seat. He nodded towards the back. “Get on. Please.”

Ethan looked pathetic. So pathetic that Grayson had no choice.

He sighed and climbed onto the bike. He fit comfortably behind Ethan, although they were still pressed pretty close together.

“Can you imagine? Riding cross country? Or down the coast?” Ethan gripped the handles and swayed slightly back and forth, like he was on an imaginary trip on Route 66. “We could go for weeks. Just be on the road. We could make videos, too, just hole up in some shitty little motel for a few days and edit and post, and then be off again.”

Grayson wrapped his arms around Ethan’s waist and pitched his voice into a high falsetto. “Oh, Ethan, I’d love more than anything to ride around with a big, strong man like you.”

Ethan huffed. “I’m being serious, Gray.”

Grayson felt Ethan lean back into his embrace, and it did feel kind of nice, to be pressed against him. Not that he would ever admit it. 

The thought of adventuring with Ethan was as thrilling as it always was. They had the freedom to do their job anywhere. Ethan’s fantasy could be reality in an instant. Did it really matter where Grayson sat? 

Gray sighed and rested his head on Ethan’s back. “It’s your bike. You can do whatever you want with it.”

“But will you ride with me? Go places?” Grayson could feel Ethan tense.

What kind of dumb question was that? Where was Ethan going to go that Grayson wouldn’t follow? 

“Of course, dumbass.”

***********

When Grayson came out of the shower- a tepid, weak shower with a questionable bar of soap and only a stained, threadbare towel to dry off with- Ethan was lounging on the motel bed in his briefs drinking a bottle of Corona. 

“Started without me?” Grayson raised an eyebrow and tossed the towel on the floor. He was starting to dig through his backpack for a clean pair of underwear when Ethan cleared his throat.

“Don’t bother getting dressed.” Ethan patted his thighs and leered at Grayson. “Come sit on Daddy’s lap.”

Grayson almost gagged. “Ugh. Never say that again.”

“You’re right, that was uncalled for,” Ethan said with a grin. “But really. Come here.”

Grayson heaved a put-upon sigh and crawled onto the bed. He straddled Ethan’s thighs and leaned forward so he was centimeters away from Ethan’s lips.

“You know what I really want?” Grayson murmured against Ethan’s jaw, sliding his hands slowly up his chest.

“What?” Ethan was already captivated. He was so easy.

“I want…” Grayson wrapped an arm around Ethan’s neck, grinding his pelvis into Ethan’s as he slid a hand down Ethan’s other arm. “…some of this beer.”

Grayson slipped the bottle out of Ethan’s hand and leaned back on his heels, smirking as he put the bottle to his mouth.

Ethan watched, mesmerized, as Grayson downed the rest of it. He set the bottle on the nightstand when he was finished and rolled off of Ethan onto his back, throwing an arm over his eyes. “Well, good night.”

“You little bitch,” Ethan growled, and Grayson laughed as Ethan climbed on top of him and placed a rough kiss on his lips.

“What? I’m tired,” Grayson said innocently when they parted, resting his hands on Ethan’s lower back.

“You just sit back and relax, and let Daddy do the work.”

“Ethan,” Grayson groaned, but it was quickly cut off when Ethan’s lips were back on his.


	7. Chapter 7

“Dude, chill out. It’s gonna be fine.” Grayson clapped Ethan on the back. “You said the first couple dates went fine, right? She obviously likes you. Don’t worry about it.”

Ethan ran a hand through his hair and groaned. He fell back onto the mattress and stared up at the ceiling forlornly. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had this many dates with a girl. I know she’s gonna want to hook up tomorrow..and I’m gonna make a fucking ass of myself.”

“It’s like riding a bicycle,” Grayson reassured him. “Believe me. Once you’re in the moment, it all comes back.”

“Well, I haven’t had all the practice you’ve had,” Ethan grumbled. “How many girls has it been this month? Five? Oh, and thanks for fucking in  _our_  car, by the way. It still smells like pussy in there.”

“How would you know?” Grayson asked with a smirk, and Ethan flipped him off.

“Asshole.” Ethan threw an arm over his eyes. “Look, don’t fucking roast me for this, but do you even know how long it’s been since I’ve  _made out_  with a girl? This is going to be a shit show.”

“You’ll be fine. We’re related, so you have to be at least  _somewhat_ decent in bed,” Grayson reasoned.

“Thanks for the pep talk, Casanova.”

Grayson laid down beside Ethan and propped himself up on his elbow. “Look, even if you do suck, she’s not gonna care. She’s so into you that she’ll think anything you do will be great. Just don’t have rancid breath and put on some chapstick, and you’ll be fine. And if it progresses beyond that…well, you know where to find me. I bought the family pack of Trojans at CVS yesterday.”

Ethan wrinkled his nose. “Um, noted, I guess.”

***

Unfortunately, as the date drew nearer, Ethan got more nervous. He was usually a fairly confident guy, but he was shit with this kind of stuff. 

He had laid in bed for almost an hour, but he was no closer to falling asleep. He wondered if Grayson was still awake. Maybe he could convince him to go for a nighttime workout to clear his mind.

Sometimes he swore twin telepathy was a thing, because he had no sooner thought about Grayson than the kid appeared in his doorway. 

“E, you awake?” Grayson asked softly.

“Yeah.”

Grayson padded over to the side of Ethan’s bed. “I can’t sleep.”

This was code for “I’m anxious and my thoughts are racing so fast I can barely breathe,” so Ethan slid over and Grayson crawled under the covers.

“Why aren’t you asleep yet?” Grayson asked, rolling over on his side.

“I don’t know. Thinking too much, I guess.”

“Are you still obsessing over your date tomorrow?” Grayson rolled his eyes. “Fuck, you  _are_  extra.”

“Shut up.” Ethan rolled over so his back was facing Grayson, and Grayson laughed.

“Oh my god. E.” Grayson grabbed hold of Ethan’s bicep and pulled him onto his back. “What would make you feel better about it? If there’s something, I’ll help. But I really don’t think there is.”

As soon as the words had left his mouth, Grayson knew he was wrong. “Wait.”

Ethan turned his head. “What?”

“Look, maybe if…I don’t know, you push the date back, or something. We can find you a different girl to…you know, practice with. Then maybe you’d feel less nervous.”

Ethan looked at Grayson incredulously. “Are you fucking serious?“

Grayson shrugged. “Well, yeah. I think it could work.”

“I could never do that, Gray. I’d feel like an asshole.” Ethan sighed. “I just have to prepare myself for humiliation.”

Moonlight was streaming onto Ethan’s face, and Grayson could see how fucked up he was. 

Ethan always got too invested in these things, put all his eggs in one basket. It was just the way he’d always been. Grayson always reminded him that they were young- they should be having fun. Experimenting. And if you weren’t the best lay a girl ever had, so what? You weren’t married to her. Learn from it and move on.

But Ethan didn’t see things that way, and Grayson was very afraid that Ethan would cancel the date altogether. This would mean, of course, that Ethan would never feel any more confident around girls, and the whole cycle would start all over again. This had to be nipped in the bud. And it would involve sacrificing all of the remaining dignity he had left, as well as cashing in every ounce of brotherly love that he contained.

Grayson took a deep breath. “There is…one other way.”

“Become a monk and take a vow of celibacy?”

“No. You…you remember that video we did awhile ago…you know, the good and bad things about being twins?” Grayson bit his lip. Now  _he_  was nervous.

“You’re not pretending to be me and going on the date,” Ethan said with a huff. “Believe me, I’ve already thought of that.”

“That’s not what I was gonna say.” Grayson hoped his instinct was right, and that Ethan wouldn’t immediately disown him. “In that video…you made a joke…that if, you were going to go out with a girl, and you were out of practice, you could just…”

Grayson saw Ethan’s eyes widen. His heart was pounding, like he’d just told Ethan that he’d murdered someone, or something.

“You’re fucking with me,” Ethan said lowly. “Where’s the camera?”

“There’s no camera. I’m being totally serious, E. I want you to get a girl. I want you to get married one day. I want you to not live in the basement of my house with me and my future wife.” Grayson tried to smile. “And if that means I have to make out a little bit with my brother, well…so be it.”

Ethan ran a hand over his face. “Dude…”

“It’s like…kissing your hand, just more realistic,” Grayson reasoned. “I promise I brushed my teeth.”

Ethan didn’t say anything, and Grayson wondered if he’d have to jump off their balcony to save his pride.

Ethan turned onto his side so he and Grayson were face to face. Ethan looked petrified, but he hadn’t disowned him yet, so Grayson counted it as a win.

“You’re…you’re really being serious right now? No one’s going to jump out of the closet with their vlog camera?”

“Like I’d ever want to take a chance that I’d be caught kissing a loser like you on camera,” Grayson scoffed, and Ethan managed a small smile. 

Everything else went unsaid. They were brothers. It was weird. It was crossing the line. But that was irrelevant. There were no two people on Earth closer than they were.

Ethan licked his lips and searched Grayson’s eyes. He seemed to find confirmation in them, because he reached out a tentative hand and pushed Grayson onto his back. 

Grayson felt strangely calm. Ethan’s face was hovering over his, but it didn’t feel weird. The fear was gone.

“We’ll have to take this to the grave, Gray,” Ethan whispered, and Grayson rolled his eyes.

“So dramatic.”

Ethan swallowed and leaned forward.

Grayson closed his eyes, and a second later he felt Ethan’s lips on his.

It was a soft, closed-mouth kiss, but still weirdly intimate. But neither of them recoiled in disgust. It was just…a kiss.

Grayson felt Ethan pull away a bit, and he opened his eyes. “That’s it?”

“Give me a minute,” Ethan huffed. “It’s not every day I kiss my own brother.”

“You wish you were that lucky,” Grayson replied, grinning.

Ethan kissed Grayson again, this time with a bit more purpose, and then again, and again. His lips were warm and un-chapped, not too wet or too dry. They were a bit thin, but felt nice enough. So far, so good.

Ethan shifted closer and gripped the place where Grayson’s neck and shoulder met. “Can I…” he murmured against Grayson’s lips, and Grayson hummed.

When Ethan kissed him again, Grayson opened his mouth so that Ethan could tentatively slip his tongue inside. This is where Grayson expected it to go downhill. Kissing with tongue could be disastrous if you were out of practice.

But it didn’t go downhill at all. Ethan didn’t shove his tongue down his throat or perform a cavity search with it. He let it slide gently against Grayson’s, switching up his tongue explorations with a nibble on Grayson’s bottom lip.

As they continued to kiss, their tongues delving deeper, going longer without parting for air, Grayson wondered if they should stop. Ethan had clearly underestimated his abilities, because he wasn’t a bad kisser at all. In fact…he was pretty fucking good.

But when Ethan did pull away a few centimeters, their lips swollen and red, Grayson barely had time to open his mouth before Ethan was pressing kisses along his jaw.

Grayson started to panic. He knew they should stop. Ethan had practiced enough, and Grayson could send him off on his date confident that he wouldn’t tarnish the Dolan family name. But Grayson didn’t want to stop. And that was terrifying.

“Ethan,” he tried to say, but it came out like a moan, because Ethan was sucking and biting the sensitive spot below his ear that drove him insane.

It had the desired effect, however, because Ethan pulled back. They looked at each other, the same thoughts clearly running through both their heads.

“We…we should stop,” Grayson said. He licked his lips. “You’ll be fine. You’re not bad at all, E.” Understatement of the century. 

“Yeah…we…we should…” But Ethan stayed right where he was, as reluctant to end this…practice session, whatever it was, as Grayson. And that was terrifying, too.

“Maybe…maybe just a bit more practice…” Grayson finally said, and Ethan was back on his lips immediately, this time with more force, but no less skill. 

It had built slowly, shock turning to shallow pleasure, but now there was no denying that arousal was pooling in his belly, making everything hazy. His mind was doing less judging of Ethan’s performance and more enjoying of it.

Ethan shifted again so that one of his legs was in between Grayson’s and he was completely on top, his weight resting on Grayson’s body. He made his way back down to Gray’s neck, and he bit hard.

“Fuck,” Grayson hissed, but Ethan didn’t stop his assault, leaving so many marks that there was no way Grayson would be able to cover them without a pound of makeup. He found he didn’t care.

Ethan moved back up to his lips, and Grayson wrapped his arms around his back, unsure of what else to do with them. This had the unforeseen consequence of pressing their pelvises closer together, and they both gasped as Ethan shifted slightly and their cocks rubbed together. 

Fuck. This was bad.

They were both totally hard. When had  _that_  happened? 

Ethan flew back so he was on the other side of the bed, his eyes wide and panicked, Grayson mirroring his expression exactly.

A little harmless kissing was one thing. This was a whole other animal.

What did one say in this situation? On the one hand, they were teenagers and they had just made out for several minutes, so this was to be expected. On the other hand, it  _definitely_  wasn’t.

But Grayson still didn’t feel disgusted. He wanted Ethan back on him, he wanted to come. They’d jerked off in the same room before…this wasn’t that different, right?

Grayson wondered if Ethan was trying to rationalize it as much he was. If he was trying to make excuses for them to keep going, so they could finish whatever they had started here.

He guessed that Ethan was, too, because Ethan drew closer again. “Maybe…maybe just this once…?”

Ethan looked like he was about to cry, but also like was about to devour Grayson alive. 

“Just…just this once,” Grayson agreed breathlessly, and he felt electric. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this turned on.

In a half of a second Ethan was on top of him again, this time unabashedly grinding against him, grabbing his thighs to maneuver him into a better position. But before Ethan could really go to town, Grayson stopped him.

“Wait.” He slipped his fingers under the waistband of Ethan’s pajama pants and tugged them down a little so Ethan would get the hint. “If it’s just this once…”

Ethan got out of his bottoms in record time and helped Grayson get out of his. They had never seen each other hard before, and it was thrilling as it was surreal.

Soon, Ethan was settled perfectly between Grayson’s legs, the feeling of skin-on-skin so sinfully fucking good. Grayson buried a hand in Ethan’s hair and grabbed his hip with the other. Ethan had no problem setting a rhythm, but Grayson needed it faster, and harder, and Ethan took direction beautifully, adjusting his pace at the same time he was destroying Grayson with his tongue.

“Close,” Grayson managed after Ethan had proved several times over that he was definitely not bad in bed. Ethan went even faster, the sweat between their bodies making them glide seamlessly together.

This was insane. Grayson had been  _inside_  a fair number of girls, and it had never felt as good as this.

“Don’t stop,” Grayson breathed as he felt his orgasm approaching, every nerve alight, his body flushed and poised for release.

When Grayson came, it happened that he looked directly into Ethan’s eyes, and it was like nothing he’d ever experienced. His body shook with pleasure, he could barely remember his own name or where he lived or anything but Ethan’s face. And when Ethan came, adding his come to the sizable collection on Grayson’s stomach, he looked like he was going to fall apart into a million pieces.

Neither of them escaped. They caught their breath, regained some semblance of presence of mind still pressed together. 

What did they do now? Where did they go from here? 

For the moment, they fell asleep. Together.


	8. Chapter 8

“Mom! We’re going for a walk!” Grayson called from the front door.

His parents and assorted other family members were in the dining room, drinking wine and eating pie, and he heard his mother laugh loudly.

“I’ll tell her. Enjoy your freedom,” Cameron said, for once without any trace of sarcasm. She was heading towards the bottom of the stairs with a sleeping child on her hip and one clutching her hand, about to pass out himself. 

“Enjoy babysitting duty,” Grayson replied with a grin. He and Ethan had done the day shift, which was ten times harder since the kids weren’t doped up on turkey yet, but there were two of them so he guessed it evened out. 

She smiled and shooed him off, beginning the trek up the stairs.

Grayson escaped out the front door and found Ethan in front of the garage, flashlight in hand. It was bitterly cold in New Jersey and they were both bundled up in heavy jackets, hats and gloves. Ethan’s cheeks were already red and his breath was crystallizing in front of him.

“Ready?” Ethan asked. 

Grayson nodded and they headed down the driveway. It was dark, but Ethan held the flashlight in front of them and the fence lining their country road was wrapped with Christmas lights- a tradition that Lisa and Sean had started with the help of their neighbors.

When they reached the end of the long driveway, Ethan looked back towards the house, and then at Grayson. He held out his hand.

Grayson took it, and they walked in comfortable silence. The night here was so quiet and black, compared to New York and Los Angeles. Grayson could hear himself think. He could see stars.

The road began to turn into an incline, and they climbed the hill quickly, enjoying the activity after a day of eating and sitting. Once they reached the top they veered right, towards a very old but well-maintained cemetery. 

The cemetery was sprinkled with small solar lights, and for some reason, it never felt spooky being there. It felt calm, like the dead were truly resting in peace.

They sat on the stone wall that created the perimeter of the cemetery. It was cold and not particularly comfortable, but Grayson didn’t care. They were finally alone, and Ethan’s gloved hand was warm on his thigh. And when Ethan kissed him, the cold disappeared altogether.

Their breath was like a cloud between them as their lips met again and again. Time passed quickly when they were alone together like this, and just when Grayson could feel the cold start to seep back in, Ethan pulled away.

“We should go back,” Ethan murmured. “Even though I don’t want to.”

“Me neither.”

Ethan rested his forehead against Grayson’s. “Just think. Soon we’ll be back in LA, in our real bed, where no one can hear us.”

“That’s something to be thankful for,” Grayson replied, and Ethan grinned.

“You’re damn right it is.”

They reluctantly made their way back to the house.

“Well, you boys look refreshed,” Lisa commented when they joined their family in the dining room. “Did you have a good walk?”

“Yeah, we did,” Ethan answered, and he squeezed Grayson’s hand under the table.

Something to be thankful for, indeed.


	9. Chapter 9

_This is inspired by[this Wincest fic](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Farchiveofourown.org%2Fworks%2F1173282&t=NTRiZjAxY2Q1YzNhZDM2NzM4MTQzZTQwMmRhZjg4ZTc0MjgxZjg3ZixvNVNkVWpyVw%3D%3D&b=t%3Adtus4UqROS30N_UTEmhN-Q&p=https%3A%2F%2Ffemmegrayson.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F167826221497%2Fhappy-thanksgiving-im-very-thankful-for-this&m=1) which is part of one of my favorite series of all time. go read it!_

“Jesus, Gray, how long does it take to eat some fuckin’ fro yo?”

In reality they had only been parked for about fifteen minutes, but it had felt like hours. Grayson was eating so slowly that Ethan wanted to take his cup and dump it over his head.

Grayson glared at him. “You have some place to be or something? Shut up and let me eat.”

Ethan sighed and leaned back in his seat. He couldn’t stand to watch Grayson put his dumb pink spoon in his mouth any longer, so he closed his eyes. He listened to the music playing on his phone in between them, felt the sea breeze blowing in through the open windows. Soon, he felt more zen.

In fact, he was so zen that he nearly had a heart attack when Grayson’s hand touched his thigh.

“Jumpy today, aren’t you?” Grayson asked, recoiling when Ethan gasped in surprise.

“No, I was in my happy place, and you just took me out,” Ethan retorted. He rubbed his eyes. “Did you finally finish? What year is it?”

Grayson rolled his eyes. “Yes, I’m finished.” He put his hand back on Ethan’s thigh and leaned over the center console. “Want to take things to the back seat?”

Ethan looked at him innocently. “Why would we do that? I brought you here for the amazing ocean views.”

Grayson snorted. “Yeah, right.”

Soon, Ethan was sitting in the back with Grayson straddling his lap.

“I love when you wear this jacket,” Grayson said hotly, sliding his hands underneath the dark leather to push it off Ethan’s shoulders.

“Then why are you taking it off?” Ethan asked, an eyebrow quirked.

“Because I love you naked even more than I love the jacket.”

“Who said anything about getting naked?” Ethan asked. “I brought you out on a nice, wholesome date and you-”

Grayson kissed him, and that was the end of Ethan’s wise guy routine. Grayson was in a mood tonight, and Ethan was loving every second of it. He was kissing real dirty, with way more tongue than usual, and his fingers were buried in Ethan’s hair, tugging hard enough to hurt just a little bit. 

Grayson snaked his hands under Ethan’s t-shirt and pulled it over his head, and Ethan returned the favor. Grayson turned into a little shit then, grinding against Ethan until he was rock hard and panting, but then pulling away, smirking at him as he sat there like an idiot with his eyes blown wide.

When Ethan had enough, he pushed Grayson off his lap and onto his back, climbing over him.

“Think you can be a little tease, huh?” Ethan asked. He nipped Grayson’s ear before moving down to his neck. He sucked on Grayson’s favorite spot before biting down hard, and Grayson gasped. “Well, you can’t.”

Ethan continued his assault on Grayson’s neck and chest and slid a hand down his torso to the button of his jeans. He had gotten real good at getting pants undone with one hand, and soon he had a hand on Grayson’s dick, jerking him so torturously slow that Grayson started to whine in frustration.

“Sucks when someone does something slow, huh?” Ethan winked and Grayson pulled his head down to kiss him again, trying to thrust in Ethan’s hand.

Ethan took pity on the guy and sat back on his heels. He pulled Grayson’s pants and briefs off his legs, and Grayson gestured for him to do the same.

Grayson looked gorgeous, his lips swollen and red and his chest flushed with arousal. Ethan was back on him as quick as lightning, pressing him into the seat as he got a hand between them, gripping both of their cocks and jerking them together.

“I wanna fuck you,” Ethan growled. He latched on to Grayson’s neck with his mouth and gripped his thigh, trying to get his leg to bend.

“Not dry, you’re not,” Grayson said breathlessly. He slapped Ethan’s hand away from his thigh. “We can fuck at home. In our bed, where it’s not so cramped.”

“Spit is nature’s lubricant,” Ethan replied. “I’ll show you.”

He pressed two fingers against Grayson’s lips. “Get ‘em nice and wet for me.”

But Grayson wouldn’t open his mouth, even after Ethan repeatedly jabbed between his lips. 

“Why are you being such a little bitch?” Ethan huffed.

“You wouldn’t ask me that if you ever volunteered to get fucked,” Grayson retorted. “You’ve gotten spoiled. You don’t have to be in my ass every time we fool around.”

Ethan begged to differ, but he decided to accept defeat. He sank back down on top of Grayson, and soon they had a nice rhythm going, their cocks rubbing together and Ethan’s tongue fucking Grayson’s mouth.

They were on the edge of orgasm when a bright light shone through the back window.

“What the fuck is that?” Grayson hissed. Ethan sat up so fast he hit his head on the roof of the car, but he grimaced through the pain and tried to see what was going on.

“Headlights,” Ethan confirmed, and seconds later they heard the crunch of feet on gravel coming towards them.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Grayson said, panicked, and they scrambled to get clothes on.

“We can just pretend we’re not brothers,” Ethan suggested desperately, fighting his way into the nearest t-shirt as the footsteps got closer.

“We look the same, you fucking idiot!”

“Oh yeah.” 

Seconds later a flashlight appeared at the front passenger side window, and seeing movement in the back seat, the person moved to the back passenger side window. There was a knock. 

“Los Angeles County police.” The officer could see definitely see them, and he pursed his lips. Ethan had on pants and a t-shirt that was inside out, and Grayson had only managed to put on a pair of pants backwards.

“I’m going to open the door. Keep your hands where I can see them.” 

Ethan had never been so petrified in his entire life. He’d always imagined his first encounter with the police would be prank or challenge-related, and they’d at least get good click bait. Getting arrested for fucking your twin brother in the back seat of a car was about as low as you could get.

They raised their hands and the officer opened the door. He put one hand on his weapon and kept the other on the flashlight.

“What are you boys doing out here this late? There’s no overnight parking here.” The officer sniffed the air, and Ethan  _wished_  they had been smoking weed or drinking beers, something to distract the officer from the fact that they were barely dressed and sweaty. Grayson had a hickey on his neck that was so large and purple that it looked like a vampire bite.

“Oh, umm, just hanging out, listening to music. We didn’t realize we couldn’t be here after sundown. We’ll leave right now,” Ethan said quickly. Grayson nodded frantically in agreement. 

“Anybody else come out here with you?” the officer asked, taking in the boys’ appearance. It was obvious what they’d been doing, but thankfully, the officer’s mind hadn’t gone straight to incest. Ethan would have thanked God for the out, but he figured that He probably didn’t want to be involved with their brother-fucking.

“Our girlfriends,” Ethan replied. “But in their own car. They left about twenty minutes ago.”

It was weak, but he hoped the officer would buy it. I mean, adults thought all millennials were sexual deviants, right? It wasn’t so unlikely that two twin brothers would fuck their girlfriends right next to each other. Right?

Ethan held his breath as the officer decided what to do next. 

“Alright. You boys get out of here. But if I see you back here again after hours, I won’t be so lenient. You understand?”

Ethan could have cried, he was so relieved. “Yes sir. We understand.”

The officer nodded. “You…get yourselves situated. I’ll follow you out.”

Ethan and Grayson put their clothes on correctly and clambered into the front seat. The officer had gone back to his patrol car and had moved out of the way so they could turn around. 

They drove out of the overlook in silence, and when they turned onto the highway, the officer followed them for a bit before getting off at an exit before theirs.

When they got back to the warehouse they went right to bed. They were _good_  boys. Sort of.

Ethan assumed the big spoon position and wrapped an arm around Grayson’s waist. It didn’t take long before the memory of being in the backseat, and Grayson’s ass currently pressed against dick, got him revved up all over again.

He gripped Gray’s hip and rubbed the skin above his waistband with his thumb, and pressed kisses onto his neck.

“Are you kidding me right now?” Grayson asked incredulously. Ethan couldn’t see his face but he imagined the expression he was making.

“What?” Ethan continued rubbing Grayson’s hip, but his hand slid a bit lower and dipped under Grayson’s underwear.

“We almost got caught boning by the police an hour ago, dipshit. How can you want sex right now?”

Ethan shrugged. “You said we could fuck when we got home. ‘In our bed, where it’s less cramped’ were your exact words, I think.”

“That was  _before_  we almost got arrested!”

“But we didn’t get arrested. And now we’re home, in our bed, where it’s less cramped.” Ethan got his hand on Grayson’s ass and squeezed it gently. “No one will catch us here.”

Grayson sighed heavily, like he had the weight of his world on his shoulders, and not just a horny brother on his ass. Ethan continued to massage Grayson’s flank and kiss his neck, and he could feel the moment that Grayson surrendered when his shoulders slumped against him.

“Fine,” Grayson grumbled. “But only because I feel sorry for how thirsty you are.”

“I’ll take it,” Ethan grinned.


	10. Chapter 10

Grayson couldn’t work a camera. He couldn’t come up with many video ideas. He couldn’t spell and he couldn’t cook.

But he could suck dick.

“Yeah, that’s it, just like that,” Ethan breathed. He buried his fingers deeper into Grayson’s hair and he let his head fall back against the side of the foam pit. He was completely naked, his flying squirrel jump into the foam pit after his shower almost immediately followed by Grayson pulling him out of said foam pit and falling to his knees in front of him.

He’d said it before, and he’d say it again- he thanked God for giving him Grayson.

Ethan desperately wanted to look at Grayson, watch his red lips slide up and down his shaft, watch his eyes water slightly as Ethan hit the back of his throat, watch him jerk himself off inside his basketball shorts while he clung to Ethan’s thigh with his other hand. But watching Grayson suck him off made him come about five times faster than usual, so he closed his eyes and imagined what his brother looked like… looking up at him through his dark lashes, his expression open and submissive. 

Fuck, that was just as bad as actually watching him.

“Gonna come soon.” Ethan felt his hips move of their own accord, thrusting gently into Grayson’s mouth. Grayson sucked him hard for a few seconds before pulling off, and Ethan’s head whipped downwards in confused frustration.

“Want you to come all over me,” Grayson explained, sitting back on his heels and getting a hand on Ethan’s cock. As much as Ethan enjoyed shooting down Grayson’s throat, he supposed he could do this for Gray, just this once.

He was so generous.

Grayson stripped his dick expertly, and Ethan could feel his toes curl against the carpet. He balled his hands into fist, the pleasure building so intense that he wondered if Grayson had acquired super powers in the past 24 hours. Hand jobs weren’t supposed to feel this good.

He was so close, every nerve was alight. Grayson’s eyes were wide and eager, and of course, that’s what did Ethan in.

“Fuck,” he groaned, deep from his gut like he was an animal. Electric heat ran through him as he came, his spunk splattering over Grayson’s tan face and chest. 

Grayson stroked him until he was empty, and the kid looked exhilarated, like all he had ever wanted was to be covered in his brother’s come. He got a hand back on his own dick again, finally releasing Ethan’s and using those fingers to collect the come off his chest and suck it off his fingers, slowly, his eyes on Ethan’s. Ethan felt his cock jerk painfully, the visual so sexy that he wondered if he could actually come again so soon.

It didn’t take long for Grayson to spill into his shorts. He fell back against the floor, panting, an arm thrown over his face. Ethan could see the dark stain growing in the fabric on his crotch, could see the come drying on his chest, could see that his hair was thoroughly fucked from Ethan’s hands.

“You look like such a slut right now,” Ethan observed, grinning. He saw the corners of Grayson’s mouth quirk up.

“Oh, thanks. We look the same,” Grayson retorted, and Ethan laughed.


	11. Baby, You're a Firework

Ethan was leaning against the kitchen counter, waiting for his food to finish microwaving. He was relaxed, happy. He'd had a great trip with Grayson and his friends at the lake, and now he was looking forward to getting back to work.

"Once I eat, you ready to start filming?" Ethan asked Grayson, who'd just come into the kitchen. But instead of answering, Grayson scowled and purposefully bumped into Ethan- hard- on his way to the refrigerator.

"What the fuck's your problem?" Ethan frowned and rubbed his arm where Grayson had elbowed him. 

"My  _problem_  is this," Grayson shot back, shoving his phone in Ethan's face. Ethan snatched the phone from Grayson's hand and squinted at the screen while Grayson rummaged violently in the freezer.

**ETHAN DOLAN DELETES VIDEO OF HIM AND EMMA CHAMBERLAIN KISSING**

_July 4th, 2018, Ethan Dolan posted a video of him and Emma Chamberlain kissing, while fireworks are in the background. Fans have expressed their excitement on twitter and Instagram!_

_Unfortunately, he deleted the video seconds after he posted it on his Instagram story but there are many screenshots and recordings_

_Emma Chamberlain has also posted a tweet with three heart eyes and Ethan Dolan's initials but she deleted that tweet aswell._

"I see your issue. If you're going to write a fake news article, at least use proper punctuation and capitalization. I feel like I need to take out my red pen," Ethan commented, giving the phone back to Grayson. "No reason to get mad about shit like this. People are going to write garbage about us as long as we're in the public eye. Best to ignore it and move on."

"I can't ignore it. The article may be fake, but it's everywhere. People really think something is going on between you and Emma, and after this trip...well, I'm not sure they're wrong."

Ethan was speechless, which was good because Grayson was loudly pulsating frozen fruit and yogurt in a blender with a deadly look in his eye. He finally was able to speak when Grayson poured the mixture into a glass, his face screwed up in anger.

"Are you fucking serious right now?" Ethan asked carefully. The accusation had hit him right in the core, and he was furious- but it wouldn't help the situation to lose his cool.

"I don't know, are you fucking Emma right now?" Grayson countered, taking a sip of his drink, his eyes narrowed.

"I can't fucking believe this," Ethan said, his voice rising. "You're really going to start believing shitty articles on the Internet now? Obviously I'm not fucking Emma- we're  _friends_. You were there the whole goddamn time, anyway- you didn't see us kiss, did you? No."

"What if I hadn't been there? Would you have kissed her then?" Grayson asked, slamming his glass down on the counter. "I know you've been texting her more lately. I see how close you get to her when you're talking. And you've started inviting her everywhere, going places without me sometimes. I'm not a fucking idiot, E!"

"You  _are_  an idiot!" Ethan yelled. So much for not losing his cool. "Emma is my friend, and we've gotten closer over the past couple of months, sure. Sometimes I even like to spend time with her without you, because, you know, I'm my own fucking person who deserves to have some time alone with a friend to shoot the shit. That doesn't mean we're fucking."

Ethan paced the kitchen, running a frustrated hand through his hair. "I can't believe you're accusing me of this. Like I'd destroy everything between us to fuck around with some girl I've known for a few months."

Ethan stomped out of the kitchen, grabbing his keys off the end table by the door. "I'm going for a drive. Good luck filming a video by yourself."

Grayson watched the door slam behind his brother, wincing at the noise. He ran a hand down his face and sighed. Fuck.

He'd been dwelling on this Ethan and Emma thing for a couple weeks, and after seeing them together on their trip, he'd been about ready to blow his top. The article had pushed him over the edge. 

Emma was perfect for Ethan. She was goofy, and sporty, and low-maintenance. The type of easy-going girl that you do anything with. They got along great. 

And they could have a future together. Unlike anything Ethan could have with Grayson.

Grayson had never considered himself to be a jealous person, even when it came to people hanging out with Ethan. He knew they were separate people, and he knew that they both deserved to have their own friends. But now that he and Ethan were...together, for a lack of a better word, it was totally different. Now that his feelings for Ethan were out in the open, and returned, they were so intense that it scared him. He didn't know what he'd do if Ethan left him for someone else. 

He abandoned his smoothie on the counter and went to their room, flopping on the bed. He thought over their trip, the past couple of weeks. Maybe he had been overanalyzing things, seeing romance where it didn't exist. So insecure in his own shit that he had to make Emma a scapegoat.

There was still a tiny seed of doubt in his gut, but he'd deal with it right this time. If Ethan ever spoke to him again.

\------------------------------

"Get up," Ethan said, shaking Grayson's leg vigorously.

"Huh?" Grayson opened bleary eyes and saw Ethan hovering over him, a determined look on his face. 

"Get up," Ethan repeated. "We have to go."

"Go where?" Grayson asked, his voice rough with sleep. He looked at his watch. It had only been a couple of hours since Ethan had left; he'd expected that Ethan would give him the silent treatment at least until that evening. He was stunned that he'd come back.

"You'll see." Ethan grabbed Grayson's hand and hauled him to his feet, and Grayson followed Ethan out of the house and into the BMW. 

"What...." Grayson began, before stopping himself. Ethan's lips were pressed into a thin line, and he definitely didn't look like he was in the mood to talk. 

They drove for two and a half hours, towards the Arizona border. When Ethan still hadn't said a word after the first hour, Grayson became concerned that Ethan was going to murder him and bury him in the desert. Or leave him there for the coyotes.

They did go to the desert, but when they pulled off the highway towards a rocky outcrop by a small stream, Ethan looked more focused than murderous. 

"Stay here," Ethan ordered sharply when he'd parked the car. Grayson nodded, watching out his window as Ethan unloaded items from the trunk and put them by the stream. First were the tripod and camera, which he set up quickly. Were they going to film their video here? Had Ethan decided that he wasn't going to make Grayson go it alone, after all?

After that was a box of fireworks, the type that you'd get to set off in your backyard. Ethan ripped open the package and selected one and set it near the tripod. He fiddled with the camera before striding to Grayson's side of the car and opening the door.

"Okay, get out." Grayson obeyed, following Ethan towards the camera set up.

"E, what..." Ethan held up his hand. Grayson let Ethan position him in front of the camera, his fears rekindling. Death by firework? On film?

Ethan checked the camera once more, pressing buttons and nodding to himself. He strode back towards the firework and pulled a lighter out of his pocket, lighting the fuse at the end. 

While the flame traveled to its final destination, Ethan jogged back to Grayson. Grayson's eyes were wide with confusion, but he didn't say anything.

Ethan looked him dead in the eye, his expression intense, passionate. "3...2...1..."

The firework went off, sparks of red and blue shooting into the air. But Grayson didn't have time to look, because Ethan was kissing him. 

Ethan's fingers were tight on his hips, pulling him close. He was too shocked to do anything but stand there at first, Ethan's tongue and lips taking his breath away. But eventually, as the firework started to fizzle out and smoke started to make things hazy, he wrapped his arms around Ethan's neck and kissed him back. Slow, and deep, barely parting for air.

When Ethan finally broke their kiss, he stepped back slightly, pulling a piece of paper out of his pocket. He raised an eyebrow at Grayson before looking at the paper. "Let me read you this new article I just found."

**ETHAN DOLAN KISSES SOULMATE ON VIDEO**

_July 5th, 2018, Ethan Dolan made a video of him kissing his twin, Grayson Dolan, while fireworks are in the background._

_Some fans have speculated that Ethan Dolan has been dating fellow Youtube star Emma Chamberlain, but the new video may put those rumors to rest._

_"I thank God for giving me Grayson," Dolan has said in the past. "I couldn't go through life without him."_


	12. Chapter 12

"Stop fidgeting, Gray," James scolded. "I'm a professional, but even I have my limits. It's pretty much impossible to glue lashes on a moving target."

"Sorry," Gray replied softly, her voice wavering. She fisted her hands in her white robe and took a deep breath. Her heart was beating a mile a minute, there were a thousand butterflies in her stomach trying to break free. 

"Are you okay?" James asked, stepping back to inspect his work. He nodded and grabbed a tube of mascara from his kit. "I told you not to drink that second mimosa. You know how much of a lightweight you are."

"That was  _hours_  ago, asshole. I'm not drunk." Gray looked up, trying not to blink as James swiped the wand over her lashes. She played with the ring on her left hand, biting her lip. "I guess...I guess I'm just nervous."

"Nervous? Why?" James tossed the mascara back in his bag and started digging for lip liner. Gray looked at him incredulously.

"Um, I'm about to get  _married_ , don't you remember? That's why we're here?"  

James found the desired liner and brought it to Gray's lips, drawing carefully. "I know why we're here. I planned this wedding, and it's going to be stunning. I've got everything under control."

"I know. I'm not worried about that," Gray replied. Her eyes shone with gratitude, and James gave her an indulgent smile.

"Then what  _are_  you worried about?" James asked, pulling out a plain pink gloss. He applied it carefully, and Gray thought about her words, trying to explain exactly why she was feeling so anxious.

James spritzed a mess of setting spray over Gray's face, but before he could admire his work for too long, he looked at his watch and tsked. "We're running behind. Get up, get up. Off with the robe."

Gray stood up on shaky legs, swallowing roughly as she followed James to the bed. The gown was carefully laid out, face down, the white fabric stark against the dark bedspread. James picked it up carefully, holding it up and looking at Gray expectantly. "Are you gonna get married in that robe, or what?"

She let the robe drop to the floor. She'd undressed in front of James a million times by now, but she still blushed. Her undergarments were white and lacy, tasteful but still sexy. James nodded in approval.

"What did we do to deserve Agent Provacateur's bridal collection?" James asked, shaking his head. "Absolutely gorgeous."

Gray stepped into the gown where James was holding it open, and James slid it up her body, gesturing to her to hold it while he scooted to the back. James pulled the zipper up slowly, smoothing down the fabric of the bodice when he'd finished. 

He turned her around and adjusted the straps that fell off her shoulders, resting in the middle of her upper arms. The dress was simple, floor length, plain white chiffon, cinched at the waist with a piece of ribbon, a standard sweetheart neckline.

James looked at her for several long moments before turning away quickly. He pointed to her shoes. "Put them on."

Gray slid on the white sandals, the butterflies starting up again. James busied himself with pulling the veil out of his box, and when he turned back to Gray, she could see the tiniest hint of glassiness in his eyes. She grinned.

"Are you crying?"

James glared at her and spun her around, tousling her long, dark brown hair. When he was satisfied, he slid the silver comb into the tresses towards the top of her head. He made sure it was secure, and arranged her long veil so it cascaded down her back just right.

When she turned around again, James' eyes were even glassier than before. He held a finger up at her threateningly. "I'm not crying. It's allergies."

"Got it," Gray answered, trying not to laugh. 

James looked at his watch again. "Okay, okay. We've got to get going. Final checklist. Something old."

Gray held up her left hand, the diamond flashing in the light from the open window. They'd gotten the ring at an estate sale, and the jeweler had estimated it was probably about one hundred years old. "Check."

"Something new."

Gray pointed to her gown. "Check."

James fished in the pocket of his linen pants, pulling out a small jewelry box. "Something borrowed."

Gray took the proffered box and opened it, finding a pair of shining diamond studs. She inhaled sharply. "James.."

"Don't get all verklempt on me. You're just borrowing them, remember. And you better not pull a Kim and lose one in the ocean. You know how many AdSense checks those cost?"

Gray laughed. "Okay." She put the earrings in, adjusted the simple gold chain at her throat. She wanted to see herself, wanted to calm her nerves. The butterflies were flapping their wings a mile a minute, and she was so happy, elated, that she felt like she was about to burst.

"And something blue." Gray held out her wrist, where the blue cancer awareness bracelet she'd worn for her father for the last ten years was in the same place it always was. Her chest tightened at the thought of her father, how she'd always wanted him to be there for her wedding day. Had she been marrying anyone else, he probably would have.

James led her to the full-length mirror. Gray looked at herself for the first time, a complete bride. 

She couldn't speak. 

"You look beautiful," James said softly, and Gray had never heard him sound so sincere. 

She'd been so worried. Worried about the width of her shoulders, how tall she was. How the column of her throat wasn't smooth, how she didn't quite fill out her neckline, no matter what the seamstress did.

But she wasn't worried anymore. In the golden light of approaching dusk, the sun illuminating her silhouette, she looked like a bride. She felt like a bride. Like the same woman she was on the inside.

"Don't you  _dare_ start crying, Missy. That mascara is good but it isn't  _that_  good."

Before Gray could answer, James' cellphone rang. James held up the phone so Gray could see the caller.

"Hi. Yes, we're leaving now. Are you all there? How does it look?" James nodded, seeming satisfied by whatever Bryant had said on the other end. "Good. Does he look decent? Did you make him shave? Because I have absolutely stunning bride here who deserves a stunning groom."

James winked at Gray, and she felt her heart swell with love- for her friends, for this place, for the man she was about to marry.

"And you have the rings? Okay. Okay. Bye."

James slid his phone back in his pocket, inspected himself in the mirror, and then turned to Gray. "It's show time."

Gray nodded. She followed James to the front door, accepting her bouquet of as he took it from it's place on the kitchen table.

The little golf cart they'd been using to get around the island was parked outside, and before she got in, she looked back once more at the cottage, the one they'd stayed in for the past five summer, the one they'd finally decided to buy.

When she came back, things would be totally different.

She let James help her into the cart, making sure her dress wasn't dragging on the ground. The sun was starting to set. It was cool, and breezy, it blew her hair gently. She breathed deep again, willing the salt air to bring her peace. 

Before James started the cart, she put her hand on his wrist. He looked at her, concerned when he saw the uncertainty in her eyes.

"Don't tell me you have cold feet," James said, groaning.

"No, of course not," Gray replied, her tone leaving no room for doubt. "I've wanted this since I was fourteen years old. But...do you...do you think he'll like it?"

"Like  _what_?" James asked. 

"How I look," Gray said. She looked down at her bouquet. "I just want to be perfect for him."

James took her hand, squeezing it gently. "Honey, would I let you get married if you didn't look like a goddess? Please, my reputation as an esthetician is on the line here."

Gray squeezed back. She tried to breathe.

They made their way up a sloping hill, one that the little cart wasn't really equipped to handle but had somehow managed to scale thousands of times in its long life. The road wasn't that smooth, and the trees were thick as they traveled towards the top, making things darker. But eventually, Gray could see the waning sunlight through the opening in the trees ahead of them.

James stopped the cart at the edge of the clearing, where Bryant was waiting for them. His eyes widened when he saw Gray, hurrying over to help her out. He shook his head. "He's gonna ball his eyes out."

"That bad?" Gray joked weakly, accepting Bryant's hand and stepping onto the soft grass. 

"No, Gray. That  _good_." He smiled wide, and Gray gave him a hug. Joy spread on such happy occasions. 

"I'll go let him know you're here," Bryant said into her ear. "He can't wait to marry you."

Bryant released her and walked into the light, towards the sound of ocean meeting rock, of wind rustling trees.

She turned to James. "I'm ready."

James pulled her veil over her face, and he gave her peck on the lips through the gauzy material. "I'm so happy for you."

"Don't get all verklempt on me now," Gray said, her eyes shining with mirth, and James held out his arm for her to take.

"If you won't, I won't."

Gray took James' arm, and they walked towards the high point of the island, where a sheer cliff gave way to the Pacific, sparkling even as the light faded.

In the distance she could see them, three figures standing by a simple arch woven with greenery. As they got closer, she could see more details. The crispness of Ryan's suit- the only person wearing one, but he was the officiant, after all. Bryant's camera hanging from a strap around his neck. 

When they were thirty yards away and rounded a corner of large bushes, she could see  _everything_. 

He was talking softly to Ryan, his profile strong and handsome. The wind gently rustled the fabric of his loose white button down, tucked casually into a pair of grey cotton pants. She'd wanted him to be comfortable, even as he'd insisted he wanted to look perfect for her.

He would look perfect no matter what. 

Ryan caught sight of them and nudged him gently with his elbow, nodding towards them. 

She couldn't take her eyes off of him, and when he caught sight of her, his world seemed to completely stop. 

Bryant and Ryan couldn't help but grin, knowing that this was exactly the reaction Ethan would have to seeing his bride for the first time. His eyes were wide, like a literal angel had fallen from the sky right in front of him. 

Bryant snapped photos as she approached, clutching her bouquet and hanging on to James for dear life so she didn't collapse from the intensity of her emotions. The closer she got, the more she could feel love radiating from Ethan like he was a furnace, his expression betraying so much devotion that she wondered if this was actually happening, if she was actually dreaming.

When James lifted her veil, she was already tearing up, and he kissed her cheek and took her bouquet, guiding her to Ethan.

Ethan took her hands. He brought one to his face, kissing her fingers gently. 

Ryan began to speak, but Gray barely heard him. She looked into Ethan's eyes, communicating with him like she'd done her entire life, without words or movements, only through the electric current that connected them, strong and unyielding. 

_I love you, I love you, I love you._


	13. Chapter 13

Before Grayson got knocked up, Ethan's sleeping schedule was a bone of contention in their relationship- both personal  _and_  working. They were basically living separate lives.

The number of hours that they were awake at the same time varied from about six to eight, and in the winter, it seemed like even less because it got dark earlier. California winters were mild, but the sun still set at 5pm. It was hard to film shit outside in the dark.

Personally? Well, Ethan  _had_  started to help out around the house, folding laundry while watching garbage television at two in the morning or washing dishes after one of his very unhealthy midnight snacks. This was certainly an improvement, and Grayson appreciated it. But while living with Ethan had become more tolerable, one problem still remained: they were rarely in bed at the same time. And when it came to their intimate relationship, this was an issue.

Except- somehow- Grayson managed to get pregnant.

The conception was mystifying to Grayson, who could count on one hand the number of times they'd had penetrative sex in the past month. It was not mystifying to Ethan, who assumed he was so virile that he could get Grayson pregnant just by brushing against him in the hallway.

Not much changed after they found out. They decided to keep filming videos, although Grayson had to remind Ethan that he could no longer jump out of airplanes or eat bugs, much to Ethan's disappointment. Mr. Kate came over and converted one of the guest rooms into a nursery, and one video was completely devoted to Ethan and Grayson pranking their parents by telling them they were going to name the baby "Avocado."

The biggest change- besides Grayson becoming more enormous by the day- was Ethan's sleeping habits.

In theory, Grayson really should have made him just stay as he was. Already being up at 2am was a good thing when you had a screaming infant to feed, and those days were quickly approaching. But it was too nice to finally have Ethan in the bed with him, to fall asleep with Ethan pressed against his back.

Grayson wasn't sure exactly why Ethan had started getting on his schedule, until it became very obvious.

Ethan was obsessed with Grayson's growing belly. While Ethan had never been very physically affectionate- and he still wasn't, really- he  _loved_  the bump. If he was within a foot of Grayson and his hands were empty, they were on Grayson's torso- running up and down the curve, rubbing gently, holding it in his palms in rapt fascination.

In bed, he had every excuse to touch. If he was the big spoon and threw his arm over Grayson's waist, his hand would be on the bump the entire night. Ethan was incapable of resisting.

Grayson still had to fight to get him up in the morning, but the promise of afternoon naps under the pergola started to make things a bit easier. Ethan's happy place was a snapshot in time, around three in the afternoon, warm in the sun, with Grayson dozing on his chest.

Getting on a healthy sleep schedule was one of those "life skills" that Grayson had always talked about when they'd first moved in. Compared with the life skill of being a father, this one seemed pretty easy.

And it was worth it.


	14. Chapter 14

Ethan had never truly been afraid until the day Grayson collapsed on the soccer field.

They were eight years old, it was spring, and everything was great. It was their last game of the season, and if they won, they'd be tied for first place.  _And_  they were getting ice cream afterwards.

Life was good.

They'd been running like crazy back and forth for the past half hour, the teams so equally matched that one could never really pull one over on the other. Grayson and Ethan were two of the better players on the team, so they were frequently in possession of the ball. Usually, this was exhilarating.

That day, it wasn't.

In the span of about five seconds, Ethan saw Grayson receive a pass, dribble a few yards, and before Ethan could even think about going over to back him up, he was on the ground.

The opposing team stole the ball, but when Grayson didn't get up after a few seconds, the whistle blew. Ethan raced the coaches from both teams and his parents to his brother, who had tears running down his cheeks and was clutching his chest. 

"Can't...breathe...hurts..." he choked out. Ethan looked to his parents, his heart filled with fear, and was shocked to see that for the first time, they were afraid too.

"Call 911," one of the coaches said, handing Sean his cell phone. "In the meantime, there's an inhaler in the first aid kit. Usually when kiddos drop like this, it's an asthma attack."

"Grayson doesn't have asthma!" Ethan protested, but the coach was already jogging towards the benches.

Ethan didn't know what to do. Grayson was struggling for air, and it sounded horrible, like he was dying. Lisa was on the ground clutching Grayson's hand, almost shaking with nerves, and Sean tried to give directions to a dispatcher through his panic.

"I know it's hard, but try to breathe in, son," the coach said when he returned, kneeling on the ground next to Grayson. He lifted Grayson into a sitting position and held the inhaler to his mouth, pressing on the puffer when he felt Grayson was ready. Ethan saw Grayson weakly inhale, his eyes full of fear. 

_Just be okay. Please, God, just make Grayson be okay. I promise, I'll be good. Just make him be okay._

"Now hold your breath for a few seconds, and then try to let it out slowly," the coach instructed. Ethan didn't know how he was staying so calm.  _His brother was sick._

Now that he was eight, Ethan had decided that he couldn't cry anymore. Crying was for babies, and he wasn't a baby. 

But seeing Grayson with the inhaler in his mouth, unbelievably scared, and his parents white as ghosts, was just too much. He burst into tears and got on the ground, clutching Grayson's hand.  _Please be okay. Please make him be okay, God._

After several puffs of the inhaler, during which  _none_  of them could breathe easy, hoping for the best- Grayson started to improve. His breaths were stronger. His grip on Ethan's hand was stronger.

Please, God.

The paramedics arrived quickly, and despite Grayson's improvement, it was agreed that he should still go to the emergency room. Ethan watched tearfully as they loaded Grayson onto a stretcher and into the ambulance, his father climbing in after him. Ethan clung to his mother's side, and she kissed the top of his head. "He's going to be okay, baby. He's going to be okay."

*****

After doctor's visits and test after test, a diagnosis of asthma was finally given. 

Things didn't really change much, after that. Grayson had to keep an inhaler in the nurse's office and in his duffel bag, but he was still allowed to play sports. He still had attacks- usually when it was really hot or the pollen was particularly bad- but they were never as bad as that first one. And as they got older, they got more and more infrequent.

Now that Grayson was 18, he rarely experienced any asthmatic symptoms. Sometimes after a particularly hard work-out he'd need a puff, or- as their last video had shown- if he got started laughing too hard. But it wasn't something he thought about that much, anymore.

Ethan thought about it more than Grayson, to be honest. When Grayson even so much as breathed a little bit too hard, it was like Ethan was eight years old all over again, on that soccer field. He nagged Grayson to take it everywhere- to the beach when they surfed, out on hikes, even if they were going to a particularly rowdy party where there'd be cigarette smoke. It was annoying, but what could Grayson say? The guy was just trying to keep him alive, after all. So he carried it with him more often than not, if only to give Ethan peace of mind.

This made it even more ironic when Ethan ended up being the cause of Grayson's worst attack in years.

***

"You like that, baby?" Ethan growled, drilling into Grayson with more force. 

"Nnghh," Grayson managed, a particularly well-aimed stroke nailing him in the prostate at just the right moment.

"What was that?" Ethan asked gruffly, grabbing a fistful of Grayson's hair and tugging so hard his head snapped back. 

"Y-yes, I...like it," Grayson tried again, gasping as Ethan slowed, pulling his cock out almost all the way before slamming back in, balls deep.

"You like it,  _what_?" Ethan prompted, tugging on Grayson's hair again, and digging his nails into the meat of his thigh for emphasis.

"I like it... Daddy," Grayson nearly sobbed, Ethan now moving so torturously slow that Grayson thought he would actually die.

"Fuck," Ethan groaned, picking up speed once again. "Love when you call me that. So fucking hot when you take my cock."

Grayson had started off on his hands and knees, but Ethan had set a pace so brutal that he'd collapsed onto the bed, clutching the sheets for dear life. Ethan loved doing Grayson from behind, gripping the back of his neck and pressing him down into mattress, his other hand firm on Grayson's hip, keeping his perfect ass snug against him so he could fuck as deep as possible.

Ethan was going through a bit of dominant phase, one that Grayson was more than happy to accommodate. There was nothing wrong with some daddy kink and and some rough handling. But tonight, Ethan had gone further than ever before, spanking Grayson's ass raw and fucking the back of Grayson's throat before getting inside him. It was a good thing Grayson had thought to prep beforehand, because otherwise he was pretty sure there'd be a trail of blood leading from his ass right to the emergency room.

That would be fun to explain to the doctors.

Not only was the sex rougher than it had ever been, but Ethan kept changing their position. As soon as Grayson got used to one, Ethan flipped him over or manhandled him into positions optimized for Ethan's pleasure. Fortunately, those positions were also optimized for Grayson's pleasure. He was having a hard time keeping up- mentally, more than anything- but it was definitely the best sex they'd had in a long time.

Now they were on the home stretch, and Grayson was close to coming without touching his dick at all. It had been a long-time goal of Ethan's for this to happen, and it was looking good that tonight would be the night.

Ethan had an iron grip on the back of Grayson's neck, pressing him down into the mattress while he got good leverage from above, so deep that Grayson swore he could feel Ethan's cock in his throat, filling it up, making it hard to breathe.

Hard to breathe. It was...kind of hard to breathe, right now. Grayson's face was smushed into the sheets, Ethan's hand pressing harder and harder on his neck. He tried to turn his head, but Ethan's hold was too strong.

Grayson attempted to speak, but his words were muffled and Ethan interpreted them all as moans of pleasure. "You like Daddy's cock, don't you, baby? You ready for Daddy to come inside you? Knock you up?"

Usually this kind of talk would really get Grayson's engines going, but his arousal was fading as it got harder and harder to breathe. He tried to buck Ethan off of him, but Ethan held him fast. "Oh no, you're gonna take it all. Gonna fuck you until you can't walk."

Grayson reached behind him with his right hand and tried to grab on to Ethan's arm, leg,  _anything_  to get his attention. Though he knew Ethan couldn't understand him, he kept talking, hoping that Ethan would pick out a word or two.

Now Grayson was panicking. Was this how he was going to die, with Ethan's cock up his ass? He was pretty sure this whole thing had triggered a full on asthma attack at this point, and his mind was getting fuzzy from lack of oxygen.

In a last ditch effort to save his own life, Grayson fumbled blindly in front of him for a pillow. When he made contact with one, he grabbed it and whipped it behind him, whacking Ethan in the face.

This had the desired effect of disorienting Ethan enough so that he loosened his grip. When he did, Grayson thrashed wildly, successfully escaping from under Ethan and rolling onto the floor. He gasped for air, zeroing in on his inhaler on the nightstand.

The first puff helped a little, and he waited a few seconds before taking another, which helped even more. Ethan was staring at him with wide eyes, his cock still hard and dripping. 

When Grayson was breathing semi-normally, Ethan sat back on his heels and ran a hand over his face. "What the fuck just happened?"

"I had an asthma attack," Grayson answered blandly. He took another puff of his inhaler for good measure.

"Yeah...yeah, I can fucking see that, Gray. But...why? How? One minute you were fine, the next you were on the floor. You've...you've never had an attack during sex before."

"You've never pressed my face into the mattress so I couldn't breathe before," Grayson explained, standing up on shaky legs. "Funny enough, not breathing makes my asthma act up. Go figure."

 He sat on the edge of the bed and watched realization hit Ethan like a brick.

"Oh my God," Ethan whispered. "I almost killed you."

"I'd tell you not to be so extra, but you really did almost kill me this time," Grayson replied, suddenly exhausted. "Pro tip: next time someone is flailing around underneath you, you should probably stop what you're doing."

"I'm so fucking sorry, Gray." Ethan looked on the verge of tears, which was actually kind of funny, considering the situation. "I'm never gonna do that again. Never gonna do this rough shit again. I promise."

Grayson took another puff of his inhaler, watching Ethan grow more guilty by the second. Grayson let him wallow in it for a few minutes before he set his inhaler back on the night stand and laid back against the pillows. He patted the spot next to him. "Come here."

Ethan came right away, laying down next to Grayson and pulling him to his chest. "God, I'm so fucking sorry."

"I know," Grayson replied. He yawned. "Let's take a nap. Between that sex and almost dying, I'm fucking tired."

Ethan cleared his throat. "Uh, speaking of the sex...was...was it good, before...you know..." 

Grayson snorted. "Are you fucking serious? You're really asking me about the sex, right now."

"...yeah?"

Grayson sighed, heavily. "Yes, Ethan, before you almost suffocated me, the sex was good. Really good."

"Okay...okay, good." Ethan pulled Grayson closer and Grayson settled against Ethan's side. He was half-asleep when he heard Ethan clear his throat again.

"Hey, uh...you think we can... finish things up here, later?" Ethan asked hopefully.

"Go fuck yourself, E," Grayson mumbled.

"Fair enough."

As Grayson fell asleep, Ethan glanced over at the inhaler on the nightstand. He thought about the promise he'd made to God when he was eight- that he'd be good if he made Grayson okay.

He hoped fucking his brother senseless was in God's definition of "being good."


	15. Chapter 15

_Hold me, hold me_  
And never let me go until you've told me, told me  
What I want to know and then just hold me, hold me  
Make me tell you I'm in love with you

"I dare you to slow dance with Ethan for  _one whole minute_ ," Daniel dared Grayson, his lips twisted into a smirk. "And  _you_  have to be the girl."

While Daniel and the other twelve-year-old boys around the fire pit snickered, Grayson's cheeks flushed pink. "No way," he mumbled, barely audible over the crackling of the fire. "That's too weird."

"Yeah, and this is  _Grayson's_  dare, anyway. Leave me out of it," Ethan complained. "Just because he's my twin doesn't mean we have to do everything together."

Grayson shot Ethan a thankful look, but Ethan avoided Grayson's eyes, looking straight ahead at Daniel. 

"Aww, you scared, Dolan?" Daniel teased. "It's just dancing, pussy."

"He's scared he'll like it," Adam piped up, his grin almost sadistic. "I mean, we all know how much he liked dancing with  _Ryan_  in gym class."

This sent the boys into another fit of giggles, and Grayson turned even redder. He'd been the butt of jokes for the past month because of that stupid gym class, and it didn't seem like it would ever end.

Their ballroom dancing unit had gone predictably terrible, middle-school boys decidedly lacking the maturity and respect that the art required. Towards the end of the unit, while they were practicing the waltz, a glut of boys in the class had forced Grayson and Ryan to be each other's dance partner. 

Ryan was unflappably cool at all times, and he'd just shrugged his shoulders. Grayson had been painfully awkward at first, keenly aware of the other kids laughing and whispering. But eventually, he was able to tune them out, and he and Ryan hadn't done too badly.

Unfortunately, the other boys in the class were now convinced that Grayson had a crush on Ryan and was turning full queer. 

"You looked at him, like, with hearts in your eyes, like a cartoon," Daniel had said, grinning. "It was gross."

"We were just dancing like everyone else," Grayson had replied, too embarrassed to muster up much anger. "Just shut up."

Now, he was under the judgmental eye of the boys again, waiting for him to make a fool of himself one more time.

"Just give me a truth," Grayson said quietly. 

"Sure,  but if you take the truth, we'll just  _have_  to tell Ryan how you bailed, and that you'd much rather dance with  _him_  instead," Daniel said innocently, examining his fingernails. "Isn't there a dance coming up soon? I bet Ryan would be very interested to know how much you'd like to go with him."

"That's a lie," Grayson said through gritted teeth.

"Ryan doesn't know that." Daniel raised an eyebrow. "Does he?"

"Shut up, dickhead,"Ethan cut in, standing up abruptly. "We'll do the stupid dare."

He made his way to Grayson and held out his hand. Grayson was too surprised to react for several seconds, but when he saw how angry Ethan was, he realized this was Ethan's way of saving him. From even more humiliation.

He took Ethan's hand and stood up, swallowing roughly.

"This is gonna be good," Daniel said gleefully. "I'm so glad I have a camera on my iPod."

Ethan turned sharply. "If you take any pictures, I'll beat the shit out of you."

Daniel snorted. "Okay. What are you, like, 95 pounds? I'll take my chances."

Grayson looked at Ethan, panicked. This was a lose-lose situation in every sense, and he was scared shitless. People already thought they were weird- once, one of their friend's mom hadn't even let him come over to their house because of it- and this would certainly make it seem true.

If they were home, they could bail. But they were stuck at Daniel's house until the next morning, almost twelve more torturous hours. What could they possibly do?

"Whatever," Ethan said. He gave Grayson a small, reassuring nod of the head. Grayson had no choice but to trust him. "Just start the fucking timer."

"Wait, we need some music, too," Daniel said. "Something nice and  _romantic_."

Ethan clenched his jaw, and Grayson knew with a little more provocation he would snap. The last thing Ethan needed was to get in trouble again, so Grayson tried to pass on calming feelings through their twin connection (which he knew wasn't a thing but desperately wanted to be, at least for the next minute."

"I don't have any shitty music like that except for this song that came with the iPod," Daniel said, turning up the volume. A slow, acoustic guitar melody started playing, and Adam held up his wrist dramatically.

"Timer starts...now!"

Ethan and Grayson stared at awkwardly at each other for a moment before Ethan hesitantly put his hands on Grayson's waist, so light that Grayson could barely feel them.

Grayson thought he was going to drop dead from mortification, his cheeks so hot he thought his face would burst into flame. But when he risked a glance at Ethan, Ethan mouthed, "Just do it. Fuck 'em." And that was enough.

Grayson put his hands on Ethan's shoulders, sending the boys into hysterics. Out of the corner of his eye Grayson could see Daniel pointing the camera at them, but since he couldn't really do anything, he let it go. They'd deal with the consequences later.

Ethan started swaying gently from side to side, the sort of shuffling non-dance that was typical of young novices. He tried to ignore the others, staring at a point behind Ethan's shoulder, letting Ethan control his movement. When he eventually caught Ethan's eye, he found that it wasn't as weird as he had expected. 

He'd been following Ethan's lead his entire life- this wasn't any different.

When Adam's watch beeped, they parted quickly, Grayson quickly returning to his seat to mentally prepare for the torture that was soon to come. Ethan started to walk back to his seat, but stopped in front of Daniel and looked out into the woods bordering Daniel's backyard. "Wow, look- I think there's a coyote over there!"

Ethan's eyes were comically wide, and all of them turned to look, including Daniel. In a split second, Ethan had snatched the iPod out of his hand and in one swift motion, tossed it into the coals in the fire pit. 

In the moments before the fight began, Ethan winked at Grayson over his shoulder. And Grayson could feel a hundred invisible hands holding him up, keeping his dignity intact.

Ethan would always have his back.

 _Thrill me (thrill me), thrill me (thrill me)_  
Walk me down the lane where shadows  
Will be (will be) will be (will be)  
Hiding lovers just the same as we'll be, we'll be  
When you make me tell you I love you

Sticks and leaves cracked under their feet as they traversed the woods as fast as they could, guided by only the weak beam of a flashlight.

They were fifteen and reckless, intoxicated with the arrival of summer. They were also scared shitless. Tomorrow they'd be on a plane to LA by themselves, for good or for worse. 

Neither of them could sleep. They followed the warm breeze they felt coming through their bedroom window and snuck out of the house, both knowing where they were going without saying a word. 

When they reached the riverbank, the moon was shining so brightly on the rippling water that Ethan tossed the flashlight onto the pile of their clothes that had been quickly discarded.

With a whoop, Ethan sprinted and leapt into the water with Grayson close behind. The water wasn't particularly warm and the bottom was littered with sharp rocks, but it was  _home_. It didn't matter.

Later, when they were tired, and exhilarated, and still nervous as hell but with renewed spirits, they laid side by side on the riverbank, looking up at the moon. 

What would happen when they were on their own? They'd have precious freedom, able to do  _anything_  they'd ever wanted. And that was the most terrifying thing of all.

Grayson took a deep breath, trying to clear his head. They weren't touching, but he could feel Ethan's body heat. Usually Ethan's presence soothed him, but lately, it only made him more anxious. He knew Ethan hadn't changed.  _Grayson_  had changed. And when Ethan reached out and took his hand, squeezing it gently, Grayson didn't know if it was for better or worse.

 _Kiss me (kiss me), kiss me (kiss me)_  
And when you do, I'll know that you  
Will miss me (miss me), miss me (miss me)  
If we ever say "Adieu", so kiss me, kiss me  
Make me tell you I'm in love with you

It had been a stupid fight, one that Ethan had provoked with his arrogant stubbornness and one that Grayson had been too infuriated to stop in its tracks. They still weren't speaking when Bryant finally gave up and went back to the house, leaving them in the woods with a pitiful fire and a half-melted candle.

The rain was really just the icing on their shitty cake, and Grayson almost bailed. Water was seeping through the "roof" of his side of the shelter (but not through Ethan's,  _of course_ ) and he was hungry and fed up. But he'd be damned if he'd go back to the house like Ethan had. It was a matter of pride. And he'd do whatever he had to do to stay.

When the rain didn't let up and his roof started to disintegrate, he left his bamboo bed and crossed the invisible line they'd drawn between them. Ethan was sitting towards the back of his shelter, staring incredulously at the dead phone in his hand that he'd charged only twelve hours earlier and hadn't used all day. Grayson used this opportunity to enter his domain, dropping down right in front of Ethan.

He braced himself to be pushed out, but Ethan had either gotten over himself or was too tired to do anything. As the minutes ticked by, Grayson's anger waned until all that was left was exhaustion.

It was at exactly this point that he felt Ethan's arms wrap around his waist, and he practically melted into the embrace. 

"You're an asshole, but I still love you," Grayson said petulantly.

"Ditto."

Grayson turned slightly, finding Ethan's lips. Despite the rain, and the bugs, and the smoke from their fire, it was easily one of the best kisses he'd ever had.


	16. Chapter 16

Grayson didn't know what time it was, only that the laughter and footsteps on the pier above him had long since disappeared.

The wind coming off the ocean was cold, and in his spot in the shadows, where the weak beams of the pier lights didn't reach and the moon barely touched, goosebumps rose on his flesh and his fingers and toes went numb.

He'd spent many hours of his teenage years in this spot, the rough wood of the beam supporting the pier digging into his back as he leaned against it. The sand here was littered with seaweed and garbage that children had thoughtlessly thrown off the pier when their parents weren't looking, but it didn't matter. It was easily brushed away until all that was left was darkness and the rhythmic whooshing of the waves against the shore.

Far down the beach he could see the flickering of a small fire, could hear an unidentifiable melody coming through the speakers of a cheap boombox, the outlines of people dancing. He looked away.

He had been wearing a white tank top, his arms golden tan and thick with muscle from a summer spent hauling bags of potting soil and mulch. She had fit tightly against his side, in the crook of his arm, wearing his jean jacket. A white Jeep piled with teenagers pulled into the driveway, and he kissed her once before pulling her towards the vehicle, climbing in with the others.

Grayson had been invited to the party, but he'd declined. The vast expanse of ocean, of feeling so small in comparison, was preferable to what he felt when he saw him with her.

A couple, drunk on love and giggling, made their way towards Grayson, intent on taking advantage of the privacy the darkness of the pier offered. They didn't see him. He stood and brushed the sand off his jeans, picked up his shoes, and walked.

The sand was soft between his toes, sticking to the skin that was exposed beneath the rolled cuffs of his jeans. He went towards the surf. The water was freezing, but he welcomed it. 

He wasn't surprised when the black sky was broken by a flash of light, of fireworks, and he was jealous of them. How a single burst of color would burn out, disintegrate, melt into the atmosphere. No seemingly endless span of time before him, spent with his head in his hands, certain that he couldn't live with this for the next eighty years. A second in time, and he would be over.

He turned and started to walk back towards his car. As he approached the street, he heard the murmured voices of people leaving bars, a motorcycle growling in the distance, a haze of cigarette smoke hanging from street lamps. He put on his shoes.

He walked towards home. He wrapped his arms around himself, wondered if anyone had ever died of hypothermia in southern California in October. Wondered if he would be the first. Wondered if that isn't exactly what he wanted.

An engine sputtered beside him, and he turned. He saw a brief reflection of himself in a small window of glass before the rider took off his helmet. 

"It's three in the morning," Ethan said. Grayson wrapped his arms tighter around himself and shrugged weakly, avoiding Ethan's gaze. It hurt to look at him. 

"Get on." Ethan nodded behind him. He held out his helmet for Grayson to take. "I wasn't sure if I'd actually find you. Don't tell Mom I left the other helmet at home."

The side of Ethan's mouth quirked up, and Grayson's stomach twisted, that familiar expression more potent than anything that Ethan could ever say, or do.

He took the helmet, their hands brushing together.

"Jesus, Gray, you're fucking freezing," Ethan murmured. He pulled off his jean jacket and offered it to Grayson. Grayson's hands shook as he took it, Ethan's lingering body heat and her perfume woven into the denim. 

He slid it on, put on the helmet. He climbed onto the bike, wrapped his arms around Ethan's waist, and wondered if ten seconds of this was worth those eighty years.

They rode. Grayson barely noticed when they passed the house, headed towards the highway. Soon, miles of coastline at the bottom of sheer cliffs laid to the right, but Grayson didn't care about anything but Ethan's body under his hands.

Ethan pulled off onto one of those scenic overlooks set up for tourists, turned off the bike. Grayson took off his helmet and looked curiously at Ethan, but his twin only sauntered to the railing, leaning against it and looking at the ocean beneath them. Grayson joined him, following as he always had. He'd follow Ethan right off the cliff, if he asked.

They stayed in silence for several minutes, Grayson too mesmerized by gloss of Ethan's hair, the curve of his spine, to think of anything to say. 

When Ethan finally turned to him, Grayson couldn't help but meet his eyes, straight on, the intensity in them intoxicating. He realized how long it had been since Ethan had really looked at him, had stayed in one place long enough for Grayson to be absolutely certain that he was real. And he was, in this instant. Absolutely certain. He saw with absolute clarity that something had changed, that Ethan had left the party a different person than the one he'd been when he'd gone in. 

Ethan took a breath like he was going to speak, and Grayson was ready to listen, like a disciple, like Ethan was speaking the word of God. 

"You look good in my jacket," Ethan finally said, so low and soft that Grayson could barely hear. "Better than..."

Ethan trailed off and swallowed roughly, his eyes flicking towards the ocean before landing back on Grayson _.Better than I do,_ Grayson finished in his head, and could feel himself blushing already, so rare was it that Ethan gave him a compliment anymore. 

"Better...better than she does."

Grayson's vision blurred around the edges, his body in shock, frozen still.  _Better than she does_. 

Ethan put a tentative hand on Grayson's hip. He was shaking. Like people who can hear colors and taste sounds, Grayson could feel words seeping through the fabric of his t-shirt into his skin, the same words that he'd thought and written and screamed and cried for months,  _years_ , since the day Ethan had taken his hand but couldn't hold on to it...words repeated back to him, verbatim, like Ethan had thought and written and screamed and cried just as long as he had.

  
"I love you." Ethan breathed the words against Grayson's lips, and Grayson's life flashed before his eyes, a blur of images and sounds that ended with a flap of wings and a bright light. Whatever or whoever had saved Grayson's life the day he was born was saving it again.

Ethan closed the distance, pressing his lips against Grayson's. And then, Ethan kissed him again, and again, and again, and he wasn't a firework, a burst of color, or a supernova. He was the sun.


	17. Chapter 17

Ethan realized he was in love a few months before his 14th birthday.

He was sitting cross-legged on his bed, finishing up his math homework. Grayson was laying on his back beside him, holding his English book a few inches from his face as he devoured the text. 

It was late September, in the evening, a single beam of the setting sun illuminating their space on the bed. Grayson snorted, something in the book obviously amusing him, and Ethan turned to him, to ask what was so funny.

But Ethan couldn't speak. Grayson was smiling, golden light making it look like he had a halo, his face young and beautiful and perfect. Warmth spread from Ethan's chest to his limbs, coloring his cheeks red, making his stomach flip and and his hands sweat. He couldn't look away from Grayson, pink lips moist with chapstick, long eyelashes fluttering as his eyes scanned the page. 

"What?" Grayson asked, looking at Ethan curiously. Ethan blinked, unsure if Grayson was even speaking English. "You're staring at me. What is it?"

Ethan's voice wavered as he tore his eyes away, started to pack his books into his bag. "Uh...nothing."

"Are you finished?" Grayson asked. He sat up and grinned. "I've been waiting. Let's go to the beach!"

Grayson hopped off the bed, stepping into his Converses. He grabbed Ethan's jean jacket, which he'd been using as a pillow as he read. He slipped it on. "I'm wearing this. Meet you outside!"

When Grayson had gone, Ethan ran a hand through his hair and squeezed his eyes shut. Everything made sense now, why this summer with Grayson had seemed different than the others. Why he'd get annoyed seeing Grayson hang out with other guys, why afternoons alone with Grayson on the beach made him nervous, but not in a bad way. In a really, really good way.

 _Fuck_.

They got hot dogs and French fries from a stand on the pier, scarfing them down as they made their way down to the beach. Grayson took off his shoes, challenging Ethan to a race as he sprinted towards the surf. Ethan was already behind, so he took his shoes off slowly, catching up to Grayson in time to see his cheeks flushed from exertion, his eyes twinkling, his hair mussed from the wind. 

Grayson laughed. "You didn't even try."

Before Ethan could reply, could fathom anything but the vision of Grayson in his jacket with the sun setting behind him, a particularly enthusiastic wave rolled in, catching Grayson off-guard. Grayson wobbled, almost fell backwards into the salt water, but Ethan grabbed onto him, clutching a handful of the jean jacket and pulling him out before he went down. The momentum of this movement caused Grayson to slam into Ethan, and Grayson grabbed the back of Ethan's t-shirt to steady himself. 

Grayson was pressed close, and it was only a split second but Ethan fell in love a little bit more, as Grayson's hair brushed against his cheek, his laughter soft and sweet. 

****

He put on a good show, but even she wasn't fooled when he went outside to "get some air," to escape out of the house into the driveway. She followed him, calling his name, and she grabbed his jean jacket to make him stop.

He didn't know what had happened, between the time he'd left his house and now, when just the sight of her made him furious. She looked at him, distressed, questions in her eyes, but he just shook his head. Turned, and ran. 

He sprinted back to his house, his lungs burning and his heart pounding, and with every step years' worth of words fell from his pockets, shaken off like dust, like something he'd worn to stay invisible, to hide from everything, but now it was gone, and he didn't care.

 He reached his driveway, hopped on his bike. He drove to the beach , his eyes scanning behind his helmet, but he only saw other people, people he didn't know or want to know. He started back for home- maybe they had crossed paths- when he saw him on the sidewalk. He pulled up beside him.

"It's three in the morning." 

Grayson looked miserable, and Ethan knew it was his fault, knew that Grayson was taller and stronger but he was still young and beautiful and perfect, waiting for him.

"Get on."

They drove, drove until Ethan couldn't stand Grayson's arms around his waist any longer, when he couldn't touch him in return. He pulled off onto an overlook, went to the very edge, and Grayson followed him.

Grayson was wearing his jacket, and he looked good, like he was made for it, like no matter what happened it would always fit, would never tear.

Ethan didn't know what had happened at the party, but he was absolutely certain that it was the best one he'd ever been to.

"I love you." 

Grayson didn't say it back, but he didn't need to because words were falling out of Grayson too, the pockets of his jeans, from the palms of his hands. He kissed Grayson like he should have done when he was thirteen, except now he actually knew how.

 


	18. Chapter 18

99% of the time, Grayson Dolan was an excellent omega.

He kept his alpha's house neat and tidy and cooked him healthy meals. He made sure his shirts were ironed and his boots were polished. He was supportive and nurturing, soft-spoken, and agreeable. He was loyal. And he  _always_ made sure his alpha's needs were met. 

In return, 99% of the time Ethan Dolan was an excellent alpha.

He made sure his omega didn't want for anything. He worked hard so they could afford the nicest things. He was strong, protective, and understanding. He allowed his omega certain freedoms that many other alphas didn't. And he  _always_  made sure his omega's needs were met.

Except when he didn't.

The 1% of the time when Ethan worked too much and came home after Grayson had gone to bed, or forgot an important date, or didn't answer his phone, was the 1% of the time when Grayson wasn't a very good omega. Because if there was one thing that Grayson couldn't stand, it was being neglected.

The difference between Ethan's 1% and Grayson's 1% was that Ethan felt bad about his behavior, guilty that he wasn't totally fulfilling his role as an alpha. But while Grayson didn't like when his alpha wasn't around, he  _did_  like the excuse to act out, just a little. To make Ethan squirm a bit, to remind him what was  _really_  important.

Grayson's guilty pleasure was making his alpha jealous. 

Grayson loved his alpha more than anything in the world. He planned on spending the rest of his life at his side. He would never be unfaithful. But Grayson loved to flirt, loved the power that came from seeing an alpha want him but knowing that for once, that alpha couldn't have what he wanted. 

Grayson was good at making his alpha jealous. Not only was he an expert flirt, but he was beautiful. It wasn't hard for him to turn heads. And he knew exactly what to do to drive Ethan crazy. Not crazy enough that Ethan would do something he'd regret, but crazy enough that Ethan would purse his lips, drag Grayson out of wherever they were and take him home immediately. And when they were home, Ethan would show Grayson just  _exactly_  to whom he belonged. 

The most recent incident had happened about three months prior. Ethan had been working long nights at Bryant's house on a new project, not coming home until the wee hours, not responding to texts. Left to his own devices when he couldn't scrounge up another omega friend to spend time with, Grayson became more and more irritable. It wasn't that he was selfish and wanted to be the center of attention all the time- it was a  _biological fact_  that an omega would become ill if their alpha wasn't around enough. So when Ethan finally came home one night and suggested they go out for dinner, Grayson knew he had to nip this whole thing in the bud. 

They couldn't get a seat right away at their favorite restaurant, so they grabbed two places at the bar. And when Grayson realized there was a new, very handsome alpha bartender on staff, he knew it was go-time.

Grayson, like most omegas, didn't drink alcohol, but he ordered his seltzer in his silkiest voice,  his eyes lingering on the alpha's strong upper body, fluttering his lashes before looking away and letting a faint blush stain his cheeks. The alpha was barely 18 and obviously not used to these sorts of seduction techniques, because he almost dropped Grayson's glass twice as he filled it, mumbling apologies as he finally set it in front of the omega. Grayson smiled coyly, taking a sip and ever-so-slightly biting his bottom lip. 

"Thank you...Isaac," Grayson said softly, glancing at the alpha's name tag before looking back up at him. The alpha nodded dumbly, his eyes glued to Grayson's beautiful face, before Ethan cleared his throat.

"My whiskey?" Ethan reminded Isaac, his eyes narrowed. The warning in Ethan's voice seemed to shake the young alpha out of his reverie, because he scurried away, his head bowed in submission. When he brought Ethan's whiskey, he risked another look at Grayson, who brought the swizzle stick from his drink up to his lips and softly sucked the liquid off the tip, tilting his head slightly to expose the smooth skin of his collarbone- an alpha's favorite place to bite. 

Fortunately for Isaac, the house manager appeared to seat Ethan and Grayson before he embarrassed himself by actually salivating behind the bar. Grayson winked at him over his shoulder as he followed his alpha.

Ethan didn't leave a tip.

As luck would have it, their waiter was also an alpha, and he fell prey to Grayson's charms just as the bartender had. By the time dinner was over, Ethan was seething, barely able to pay the bill before taking Grayson by the hand and hauling him to the car.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Ethan asked, trying to keep his voice calm but definitely not succeeding. He sped down the road, his hands gripping the steering wheel so tight his knuckles were turning white.

"What do you mean, alpha?"

"Oh, so  _now_  I'm your alpha? What changed in the last five minutes? Because you sure as fuck weren't acting like  _my omega_  in the restaurant." 

Grayson kept his head down, barely able to contain his triumphant grin. He spoke softly. "I'm always your omega."

" _My_  omega wouldn't act like a little slut," Ethan growled. "You want an alpha to pay attention to you? Just wait until we get home. You'll get plenty of attention while you're being punished for your behavior."

"I'm sorry, alpha," Grayson whispered, discreetly pinching the inside of his thigh to try to bring tears to his eyes.

"You're gonna be  _real_  sorry soon," Ethan replied icily, and Grayson almost shivered at the thought. Ethan talked big, but he rarely landed more than a few well-placed strokes on Grayson's ass with the palm of his hand before he felt guilty and just settled on fucking Grayson a little bit harder and deeper than usual, making sure he felt it the next day. And when they woke up in the morning, Ethan was always apologetic, vowing not to spend so much time away from home.

And that's exactly what happened.

Now, three months later, Grayson getting ready to put the plan into action once again.

Ethan had gotten involved in another project, with more late nights and more time away from home. But this time, it was even worse.

Grayson was sick.

It started one morning when he woke up to find Ethan's side of the bed empty. His heart sank to his toes. He hated waking up alone, and it was happening more and more often. 

He sat up in bed, keenly aware of how tired he still felt, when a wave of nausea hit him like a brick. He barely made it to the toilet before he puked, and when he was finished, he went straight back to bed.

Omegas were not supposed to whine or complain, but after the third morning of this happening, Grayson felt that he had to share it with Ethan. Grayson was pretty sure it was Ethan's fault, anyway.

Ethan was convinced that it was a bug. He told Grayson to take it easy, and continued working his long days away from home. Grayson didn't get better. After years of being a workaholic, Ethan had finally made his omega sick from loneliness.

Unfortunately, most alphas did not really believe that this was something that happened- just something that omega doctors made up to make alphas feel bad. Grayson didn't have the energy to plead his case, so he tried one last time to fix things the old-fashioned way before he got the  _big_  alpha- their father- involved. 

Grayson tried so many times to make Ethan jealous over the span of about four days that he lost count. Ethan's project had stopped for the moment but Ethan was still distracted, and Grayson was still sick. So at every restaurant, check-out line, store, drive-through, you name it, Grayson was flirting with any alpha within spitting distance. But for the first time in his life, the unthinkable happened.

It didn't work.

There wasn't a single alpha that took the bait. No matter how much he fluttered his lashes or focused his pretty smile on someone, they didn't seem to notice. Some even  _ignored_  him. It was at this point that Grayson knew that he was  _really_  sick. Maybe even dying.

Grayson knew that Ethan wouldn't believe him unless he had proof, so he made an appointment with a doctor- an  _alpha_  doctor- and after his puking ritual one morning, he went. 

The doctor was a pleasant alpha female in her mid-forties, and Grayson had high hopes that she would believe him. 

"My alpha is a director, and he's away from home a lot. Has been for the past couple of years. I've told him over and over again that I could get sick if he was away too long, but he never listens. And now, it's happened." Grayson looked up at the ceiling, trying to force his tears back into his eyeballs. It didn't work.

"What symptoms are you experiencing, Grayson?" she asked, sitting back in her chair, her clipboard perched on her lap. "You say you've felt 'sick.' What does that mean, exactly?"

Grayson wiped his eyes. He wished he had brought someone with him. "I've been throwing up a lot. And I've never felt so tired in my entire life. I can barely get through the house chores."

The doctor nodded, scribbling down some notes. "Can you think of anything else?"

"No...not really," Grayson sniffled. "I just...don't feel like myself. I don't want to be sick anymore. I want my alpha to come home."

"I see," the alpha said, jotting down a few more notes before setting her clipboard on the counter next to her. She smiled at Grayson reassuringly, a bit of a twinkle in her eye- something that Grayson didn't notice with the tears clouding his vision. "Grayson, before we do anything else, I'd like to get a urine sample from you. It will give me a better idea of what's going on. Is that alright with you?"

Grayson nodded, looking sadly down at his hands. An hour later, he was still in the exam room, almost shaking with nerves. What if something was seriously wrong? What if he never got better? Ethan would be devastated. 

When the doctor finally returned, Grayson took a deep breath. He scanned her face for clues, but her expression was carefully blank.

"Okay, Grayson. We were able to do some quick tests with your urine sample, and I'm fairly confident that I can diagnose you at this point." 

"I've got omega sickness, don't I?" Grayson said quietly.

"No, you don't have omega sickness," the doctor said, shaking her head. She smiled at him then, which was confusing, considering he was obviously dying. 

"You're just saying that because you're an alpha," Grayson blurted out, tears coming back with a vengeance. When he realized what he'd said- how disrespectful he'd been to an alpha- his hand flew to his mouth, panic in his eyes. "I'm so sorry, alpha, I-"

"It's okay," the doctor said, surprising him by laughing. "I know that many alphas in my profession are skeptical about this particular ailment. But I practice medicine based on facts, and omega sickness is certainly a legitimate illness. However, omega sickness is pretty rare. It only happens in really serious cases of neglect, or when an omega's alpha passes away- cases where an alpha is gone for entire months, or years at a time."

"Really?" Grayson asked, letting himself feeling a tiny bit of relief. He certainly wasn't in either of those situations.

"Really," the doctor confirmed. She was still smiling. 

"Then...what's wrong with me?" Grayson asked, his anxiety ramping up again. The doctor must have seen his panic, because she held out her hand. Grayson took it right away, and she squeezed gently, her alpha scent stronger, trying to calm him.

"There's nothing wrong with you," she assured him. She squeezed his hand again, her eyes bright. "But you  _are_  pregnant."

***

100% of the time, Grayson Dolan was an excellent omega.

He kept his alpha's house neat and tidy and cooked him healthy meals. He made sure his shirts were ironed and his boots were polished. He was supportive and nurturing, soft-spoken, and agreeable. He was loyal. And he  _always_ made sure his alpha's- and their child's- needs were met. 

In return, 100% of the time Ethan Dolan was an excellent alpha.

He made sure his omega didn't want for anything. He worked hard so they could afford the nicest things. He was strong, protective, and understanding. He allowed his omega certain freedoms that many other alphas didn't. And he  _always_  made sure his omega's- and their child's- needs were met.

Grayson no longer had any guilty pleasures. Because the 1% that had been missing, was currently sleeping in his arms. 


	19. Chapter 19

There was a reason that Ethan usually pulled the pranks. And the reason was that Grayson sucked at it.

Grayson had good ideas, and he was even decent at planning them out. But most of Grayson's pranks still failed before they even began, because he was absolutely  _terrible_  at keeping secrets from Ethan. 

It had been a problem his whole life, literally since he could talk. No one in the family could remember exactly how they had found out about it, but over time Grayson's weakness had become a joke. They even timed him one year, to see how long he could keep Ethan's Christmas present a secret.

Eleven minutes and twenty-two seconds.

Now that he and Ethan were mated, it was even worse. Keeping a secret from your sibling was one thing, but keeping a secret from the guy who was regularly  _inside you_  was another thing altogether.

Considering all of this, Grayson truly believed that the past two weeks could be considered a miracle by the leaders of most major religions.

Grayson had found out he was pregnant on September 3. And he still hadn't told Ethan.

Since Grayson was five years old, he'd dreamed of having a baby. Since Grayson was fourteen years old, he'd dreamed of having  _Ethan's_  baby. He'd imagined thousands of ways he'd reveal his pregnancy to Ethan, had whittled down his list of baby names to fifteen (five for a girl, five for an omega, five for an alpha) and had already configured the nursery to a T in his head. Even the wallpaper.

Now that he was actually pregnant, the thousands of ways he'd thought about sharing the news with Ethan all seemed insufficient. They were YouTubers, for God's sake. Everything they did was a grand gesture, a big production. This, arguably, was the most important thing to have happened to them in their entire lives. What gesture was worthy of this occasion?

He thought about pulling a prank. A really, really big fucking prank. He'd made it past the eleven minute mark without telling Ethan, so maybe this was his time. His big opportunity. He made a list.

1\. Suggest skydiving. Get in the suit, get in the air. Be literally inches away from the edge of the door and bail. When he asks why, tell him.

2\. Tell him there's a parasite inside me, eating me alive. Must travel to other side of the country to see top specialist. Have ultrasound. He sees the sonogram. Not a parasite- a baby.

3\. Hire a woman with a baby to act as a Postmates driver. Have woman deliver baby instead of food, get in car, and drive away.

Grayson wasn't really sold on any of them, and as the days went on, he liked each idea less and less. What could he do that was good enough? To show Ethan just how incredibly fucking happy he was, how proud he was to be having his baby? Have a plane write it in the sky? Have it engraved on platinum and dotted with diamonds? Hire Ariana Grande to sing it to him?

It wasn't until one night, lying in bed with Ethan holding him, snoring softly against the back of his neck, that he finally had his epiphany. 

Grayson didn't need to clickbait his own life. He was already living it, happily. Maybe in their universe, the greatest prank of all was  _not_  pulling a prank. 

He turned in Ethan's arms so he was facing him, and he cupped Ethan's cheek, stroking his thumb over the dark stubble there. He allowed himself the pleasure of looking at Ethan's face, relaxed in sleep, before sliding his hand down to his shoulder and shaking lightly.

"Ethan," Grayson said softly. He did this a few more times until Ethan's eyes blinked open, confused.

"Whatz it," Ethan mumbled. 

"I...need to tell you something," Grayson replied, biting his bottom lip.

"Wait til morning," Ethan said, his eyes fluttering shut. Grayson shook him again.

"No, I need to tell you now." 

Ethan must have heard the urgency in Grayson's voice, because his eyes opened again, fully this time, and he sat up slowly, running a hand through his hair.

"Okay, I'm listening," Ethan said, his voice rough with sleep.

Grayson could already feel tears pricking the backs of his eyes, and at any other time he knew Ethan would call him a little bitch. But he had a feeling he wouldn't this time.

Grayson sat up too, taking Ethan's hand. He could see several different emotions cross Ethan's face, and he smiled to let Ethan know the news was good.

"So... I've been wanting to tell you this for awhile, but...I didn't know how. So I just decided...to do it. To tell you. Like this." Grayson took a deep breath. "I'm...pregnant."

Ethan pulled Grayson to his chest, kissing him soundly. And then - "I know, baby."

Grayson's mouth opened and closed a few times as he tried to process this new information. "What?" he finally asked weakly, and Ethan chuckled.

"I knew that you were hiding something from me, but when you didn't let the cat out of the bag after a couple of days- for the first time in your life- I figured it must be really, really important news. And I couldn't think of any news more important than this. I'm glad you finally told me."

Grayson stared at Ethan in disbelief before shaking his head wearily and burying his face in Ethan's shoulder. "I've been agonizing over this for two weeks. And you knew the whole time."

"Not the whole time," Ethan said. "Just long enough to know that if the tea is really special, really high-quality tea, Grayson Dolan is capable of not spilling it."

"This is without a doubt the highest-quality tea we've ever had," Grayson agreed, his eyes starting to water again with joy. He kissed Ethan again, and again, until they were both crying like little bitches and neither of them gave a single fuck.

"We're going to have a baby," Ethan said in awe awhile later, resting a hand on Grayson's abdomen. 

Grayson covered Ethan's hand with his own. "Tea."


	20. Chapter 20

"Two more months."

"No."

"One more month."

"Go fuck yourself."

Ethan slumped back in his chair. He watched Emma take a dainty sip of her coffee and then begin to inspect her nails, totally ignoring him.

They were in a conference room in an office building in downtown Los Angeles, alone except for their manager, Chris, who was frowning at them through the glass door. Ethan looked over at Chris and shook his head, but Chris only waved him off, pointing to the watch on his wrist.

Ethan needed to make a deal, and fast.

"One more month, and an extra fifty grand," Ethan said, desperation creeping into his voice. "That's a great deal."

"I don't care about the fucking money, Ethan. I'm done with this. The contract has expired, and I'd like to move on with my life. Fake almost-dating you has been a real pleasure, and, you know, thanks for the subscribers and everything, but this is it." 

Emma stood to leave, shouldering her purse. Ethan ran a hand through his hair. He wasn't too proud to beg, but he'd hoped to avoid that. Now, it didn't seem like he had a choice.

There was a reason he'd wanted to negotiate with Emma by himself.

"One more week. Long enough for us to bring another girl into the picture." Ethan stood up and started pacing the room, biting his thumbnail anxiously.

"Grayson and I need you. The second people think we're single, or not distracted by whatever bullshit girl drama we have going on, the spotlight is thrown on our 'interesting bond,' or whatever the fuck that reporter called it. And if people find out about us, we're done. Please, I'm asking you-  _begging_  you- as a friend. One more week."

Emma looked up at the ceiling and sighed before turning a resigned look on Ethan. "Fine. One more week. But I'm doing this for Grayson, not you. You piss me off."

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," Ethan repeated, almost ready to cry in relief. "I'll tell Chris to update the contract, and make sure he adds on a few grand to the deal."

"I'm not signing another fucking contract, and I don't want your money. One more week." Emma held out her hand, and Ethan shook it once before she glided out the door.

Chris came in not thirty seconds later. "So? Did we get another two months?"

Ethan fell back into a chair and closed his eyes. "One more week."

"A  _week_? We're not going to be able to find another girl in a fucking  _week_. We have irons in the fire but it takes time to orchestrate this shit." Chris threw up his hands. "For fuck's sake, she's gained two million subscribers and doubled her net worth in the past four months. What the hell is she thinking?"

"She's just...done, I guess."

Chris ran a hand over his face and sighed so hard that Ethan thought he was actually deflating. 

"Fine. We've got a week. I'll speed things up as best I can on my end. But you two better make this a good fucking week."

****

"It's going to be okay, E."

Ethan was sprawled on his back on their bed, staring up at the ceiling. "Chris has called me three times since I left the office. He's freaking out. And he doesn't even know about us."

Grayson finished putting his clothes away and climbed onto the bed. He settled against Ethan's side and threw an arm over Ethan's chest, and Ethan's anxiety dropped two notches just from Grayson's body heat.

"We'll deal with whatever comes along. We should have never let Emma get involved in this, anyway. It isn't fair. She deserves to be able to date who she wants," Grayson said. He nuzzled into Ethan's neck, and Ethan wrapped his arm around Grayson's back, pulling him closer. 

"Do you think she'll keep our secret after all this is over?" Ethan asked. "There's nothing holding her back now. She could destroy us if she wanted."

"She won't tell," Grayson murmured. "She wants us to be together."

They fell silent, and before Ethan knew it, Grayson was snoring softly in his ear.

They'd deal with whatever came along, because there was one thing Ethan Dolan knew for sure- he'd die before he gave up Grayson.

 


End file.
